So I look around and it has been a year and four days since my last post. Unbelievable. In a way I wish I had not lost this year of recording the days, the emotions, the lessons, the failures and the progress. I felt like I would remember them forever but like remembering every little cute thing your baby did growing up --it fades so.
I wish I had not dropped a year. There were things I learned and things I will need to remember and reflect on but I needed a break from the clarity and lessons and pressure and I needed to just "feel". I didn't know that at the time but I did. I needed to feel. I didn't need to write about it, or glean lessons from it or try and analyze it to death - I just needed to feel it. To mourn it, to cry, to process it. I still do. Mainly because I still didn't - except on ambush occasions I ran from it. I was afraid of it. Afraid it would kill me afraid I would go to the darkness and never return.
It has now been two and a half years. That seems unfathomable to me. I am now able to give a third year perspective and there are things both easier and harder about the third year. I am able to laugh more, I am getting out more. But the few people that were still hanging in with me in this, the few friends and family that I had are now done. They are tired of it and they no longer are willing to talk about it anymore. I'm sure they want to move on and I am holding on unable to let go.
I have not been able to write one word and so this is my trial run to see if I can. Not much substance I know but it's a start. I really felt this helped me and I'm slipping backward and so I'm grasping at straws to try and move past this quicksand I'm in. So it has taken me a week to write just this. But it's a start...