How do I reenter life? The life I knew and loved has been radically changed. There is simply no returning to it. That life is over. I can not resume where he and I left off. I need to rebuild. But, where do I begin?
When he died I felt my foundation shift and collapse.
I buried Mike, but it was me
who was buried alive by the wreckage of our dilapitdated life.
For a long time I thought that maybe if I stood still he’d come for me. I thought he would somehow find me and save me from the ruins of our lost life. Then, after a while, I realized that Mike was not coming back – ever. I recognized that I was on my own. I knew that I had to rescue myself. But, I felt disoriented and far from battle ready.
Early on, Grief had the upper hand because my confidence and self identity were lost and buried deep in the rubble of our shattered life. Even now, I can barely process all the changes that have occurred in the last 23 months.
To soothe my Soul, I catch myself instinctively rocking and clutching my collarbone – as I choke for breathe. I do this more often than I care to admit. Daily. My life is not easy anymore. In fact, it is often so overwhelming that my breath is chaotic.
I’m tired of being out of breath.
I have to starting breathing life in, or it will pass me by. I know this. Yet, despite what I know, I am still standing on the sidelines waiting to catch my breath. I feel myself watching life unfold. And, I know that I need to get back in the game. I hate that I have benched myself because I am tired. I hate that I am sitting out rather than breaking a sweat in the game of life. I am growing impatient with myself and my lack of commitment. I can’t just write about actioning change. I need to bring my ideas to life. And, to do this I have to leave the safety and predictability of the sidelines behind. When I start participating in the game, I will bring myself back to life. I know this. So, it’s about time I do this.
But, I suppose,
In fairness, it is hard to remain confident and self assured when your world implodes.
However, you do learn what you’re made of when your world collapses.
Everything you are is exposed.
I’ve spent almost two years on my hands and knees collecting the shards of myself that survived his death.
But, I’m over it now.
I’ve grown bored.
I’m tired of combing through the litter of my old life.
Now, I am ready to do something with the tattered pieces I salvaged from the rubble of what was.
After Mike died, the underpinnings of my Soul were revealed.
I was forced to stand naked in the wreckage of my life.
And, while I was vulnerable and uncovered I was required to take stock of myself.
This hasn’t been easy.
It’s been an exercise in grace, that’s for sure.
Art: Louie Jover
Mike’s death briskly undressed me.
There is no better way to put it.
I was left completely exposed.
And, since the day he died,
I have struggled to survive the trauma of being so cruelly stripped of the life I knew.
But, now, after nearly two years, surviving isn’t enough.
For me, it’s not sufficient to simply get through the day.
I want to live again.
Recently, I have begun to shroud myself in life
because this is compulsory for me at this point.
I owe it to myself to come back to life.
I need to rise from my knees.
I’ve spent enough time scrounging the wreckage of my life.
There is nothing left to salvage.
There is nothing more to find there.
I have everything I need.
And, in actuality, I think I did all along.
I didn’t need to find a magic wand or a powerful amulet.
I am strong enough on my own.
I can claw my way back towards life using grit. And, I will.
And, you can too.
I’ve accepted I am responsible for recreating my life.
I am the architect of my future.
I’m in charge.
And, I am responsible for the quality of life I live.
I know that I can redesign my life into anything I want.
And, yes, this is fairly daunting, but it is also somewhat exciting.
With hard work, and perseverance,
I will rebuild myself from rock bottom.
I will create a beautiful life.
I know this.
And, I also know that I have to start again whether I’m ready or not.
Building myself with my own wreckage,
Staci