And just like that, I scrapped everything I wrote. There was no joy in writing this book so why even continue in this attempt to make something that would be devoid of love. It wasn't the task at hand...it was me. For the past year and a half, I had been trying to tell the story of how our lives---mine and my relatives---had progressively changed after my mother's passing; all the while failing to acknowledge that I was still living in grief. There were no words that could convince me to believe that I was telling this inspirational tale of how I went from being a forlorn caretaker who gracefully transformed into this optimistic survivor. That's not who I was. It was the furthest notion from my reality.
The writing ceased.
I pretty much just lived my life over the course of the summer. Learned a great deal about myself through my first year of marriage. Traveled to Europe for the first time in the fall. And more than ever before, I confronted my depression head on. I had frank conversations with God about how I felt and how I really needed His help. I didn't want to continue in this vessel of turmoil. Living was becoming a challenge that I no longer felt equipped to handle.
But things got better.
In addition to a renewal of my faith, I made a concerted effort to find the good in any given situation. It's a change in perspective that I actively pursue from day to day. I had completely exhausted myself with negative energy. That was never the way I imagined my life would be. And I know for sure, my mom would tell me to go on walking with my head held high. "Things are bad but they're not that bad." I could feel the soothing vibrations of her voice calming my countenance by simply typing those words.
Soo....I'm writing again!
I have a clearer focus now. I gave myself a deadline. But more importantly, I found my smile again. The content of my book has shifted from a narrative of several perspectives to that of my own; a memoir solely about my life after my mother's passing. It spans four years of time; right up until I pen the final words. I'm excited, nervous yet hopeful. I have no expectations from the masses. This healing is for me. And I think I have a right to be selfish in this regard. I deserve happiness. If I didn't feel like I did before. I know better now.
Photography by Jeremy Minchella (@jchukm)