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Writers Block

Posted on: February 1, 2016 | Posted by: Mike Welker

http://widowsvoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/writing_quote_298.pngWhat should I write about today?  Nature?  No, I am beginning to sound like a broken record, and I haven’t hiked in the past week.  How about Sarah?  Well, I’ve got a good subject for NEXT week, but that doesn’t help me right now..  

 

OK, how about Megan’s disease?  I mean, I went through a lot with that, but really, it just sucks.  It would be hard to write an entire post about it right now, because I don’t have too much to say that hasn’t already been said.  Any recent grief triggers come up that I can reflect on?  Well damn…no.  Problems that are related to being a widower?  Not particularly, and Sarah’s post actually covered that on Sunday for both of us, so I don’t want to rehash it.  Yes, the past week or two has been stressful, but things are resolved, and we’ve talked them out, so it’s not at the forefront of my mind.  


My mind is blank right now.  

Being that I try to find the good in everything though, maybe I can write about that.  When was the last time that my mind just shut off?  Nothing is overwhelming, triggering, or tugging at my brain recently.  My thoughts aren’t racing with fears, anxiety, or depression.  It sucks for trying to write about, but I guess it makes it a good day too.

 

There are times when it’s hard to write because I can’t sort all of my emotions out at that moment.  Between processing whatever trigger or heavy feeling I may have been having, and day to day life, it may take me a few days to put together four or five paragraphs.  Other times, I’ve had something new, exciting, or important happen, AND had time to process it, and I can just let the words and emotions flow.  

 

But right now?  I have nothing.  I am in a decent mood, and that is about it.  Life hasn’t changed in the past week or so, and I’m grateful for that.  I’m honestly just having a good day, and I’m allowed to do so.  If it means I have to “phone it in” when writing this time, then so be it.  

 

I know my triggers.  I could listen to a few select songs, or look through certain pictures, or self-sabotage in a multitude of ways to get into a “writing zone” and just spew out words, but I don’t want to.  I don’t NEED to.  No one should have to feel guilty about NOT feeling bad.  A smile does not betray the person you loved and lost.  Being happy is what Megan would have wanted, in fact.  It’s healthy for me, and it’s healthy for those around me.  

 

I’m giving myself a pass this week.  We all should give ourselves a pass.  So much of our time is spent grieving or sorting out tough emotions that we forget that happiness is still an emotion too, and it needs to be at the forefront when it can be.  

 

Simply put, I haven’t been thinking about loss, grief, or trauma this week, so why force it? I’ve had guilt in the past when I felt like I wasn’t grieving deeply or often enough, so I would actively try to do so, but it doesn’t make sense to me now that I think about it. Why waste a decent day, hour, or minute grieving somebody that honestly, probably would rather us just be happy and clear headed?

 

Categories: Widowed, Widowed Parenting, Widowed Emotions

About Mike Welker

Three months after my discharge from the Marine Corps, at 22 years old, I met my wife Megan, on December 10th, 2002. The very next day, I was drawn like a moth to a flame into dealing with a long term, terminal illness. Megan had Cystic Fibrosis, and after 8 years or declining health, she received a double lung transplant, and a new lease o life. Our daughter Shelby was born in 2007. In early 2014, those recycled lungs, which had brought our little family three years of uncomplicated health and happiness, finally began to give out. She died from chronic organ transplant rejection on November 19th, 2014 while I held her hand and let her go. I'm a single father and widower at 34 years old, and no one has published a manual for it. I don't fit the mold, because there is no mold. I "deal with it" through morbid humor, inappropriateness, anger, and the general vulgarity of the 22 year old me, as if I never grew up, but temper it with focus on raising a tenacious, smart, and strong woman in Shelby. I try to live as if Megan is still here with us, giving me that sarcastic stare because yet again, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

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