When life gives you…
The proper thing to say here would be lemons, of course. Then, you do the very logical thing and make lemonade. It’s all very cute. I wish life did give me lemons. And Vodka. And a cocktail shaker.
I’ll admit, life has given me many joyous moments. Only now, three years after the world shutdown, can I really stand back and look at all I have done, all I have accomplished since becoming a writer in 2018.
I wrote a book. A full, complete, beautiful book that readers love. She’s not published yet, hell, she doesn’t even have a real name yet (Elle), but she’s ready to fly. I did that. My imagination allowed me to create life on a blank screen. I also began to freelance and get paid for my writing. Umm, this was huge. Super huge.
Add in a dash of real estate income and everything seems good, right? Well, there’s another side to all of this happiness. It’s pain. Depression. Anxiety and grief. In three years, I’ve lost my sister-in-law, my grandmother, my first baby (Vinny), and very unexpectedly our Doberman, Duke. I’ve had to fight to establish boundaries with family members and became estranged from so many. It was survival mode every day, all day. I remember the exact day I broke. It was the day we got the call about Duke passing away. I actually collapsed and fell apart in my office, in my husband’s arms. The next time I saw my therapist, I asked to be medicated because my life felt darker than it had ever felt before. I didn’t want to wake up. When people tell you they feel numb, it’s the strangest sensation to be alive, but not living.
Grief is something I know wholeheartedly, but also, not at all. I wasn’t allowed to grieve over the past few years. Sure, you can say of course you’re allowed to grieve, just do it. Easier said than done, my friends. Only now, on the other side of the extended darkness, am I able to feel.
Vinny died on Christmas Eve, 2022. I miss him every day. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, but this year, it’s bittersweet. My best friend and first child, I can’t believe he’s been gone for almost a year. The grief is coming in waves for him, Duke, and Grandma. It’s like I’ll be fine and content, and then all of a sudden the tide of grief comes in and I get caught in an undertow. Then it flows back out, and I catch my breath. I know it’ll never go away. But that’s the human experience I guess. Sorrow and joy. Trauma and love. Darkness and light.
Through my depression, I’ve written almost two other full books. When I look at them, I know much will have to be rewritten. But that’s okay, first drafts are supposed to be absolute shit. Writing helped me. Reading saved me. Maybe one day, my writing will help save another reader who needs that little bit of light in their darkness.
