Displaying items by tag: journey

“It is the problem of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing.” ~William Faulkner

I have a problem and it is two-folds. I am a perfectionist with the awareness that I am a perfectionist. Why is this a problem? Because once you are aware of somthing you deem a flaw about yourself, then you have the responsibility to change it. Unfortunately, it isn’t so easy.

Do you remember when you were in school there was always that quiet kid in class who barely spoke but always seemed to excel on tests and projects? They normally kept to themselves and had few friends, yet aced quizzes and tests. Maybe they were called weird or shy. They were the ones that the popular kids didn’t associate with. I remember those kids in school, mostly because that shy kid who barely spoke was me. Maybe you can relate.

Recently, I have felt as if I am unraveling. I am watching myself fall apart mentally, emotionally, and maybe even physically. It’s uncomfortable and I am resisting. I want to feel whole again. I want to be in control of my life again. Just when I feel that I have a grasp on this thing we call life, another wrench is thrown into the proverbial smooth running machine. 

I’ve been on an official healing journey for over three years, but really, the journey began many years before that. 

I started this website to focus on loss and the complicated relationship it has with grief, depression, and loneliness. The rollercoaster of emotions that naturally comes along with losing a loved one or something in your life that you cared deeply about sends you to parts of yourself that you would rather forget existed. The grief inevitably brings out feelings that once lay dormant and then hijacks every part of your body, brain, and heart.

I have also written about how I have learned to use new-found tools and support from others to overcome the challenges and paralyzing effects grief creates. From podcasts I have listened to, to books I have read, to supportive friends, family, colleagues and healing retreats, I spent the better part of two years trying to figure out how to heal.

There have been very few Christmases that I haven’t spent with my family in Pennsylvania. Growing up in a small town, the holidays were some of the highlights of my childhood. A crisp morning greeted us on the short walk to the humming car, pre-heated and all ice crystals melted from the windshield. The air smelled fresh and clean, as if the snow and cold hit a reset button on the usual scents of, where I grew up, nearby cattle farms.

Two years ago, in December of 2021 I spent the Christmas and New Year’s holidays by myself, exploring the countryside and cities of North Carolina, searching for places to feel like I belonged, for a place I could call my home. It was a tumultuous time for me. I was still grieving and trying to heal from the loss of my husband and my life in an unexpected divorce. My heart leaked with failure, depression, and pain. My mind urged me to run far away from the pain and memories of my past. 

“Transitions are almost always signs of growth, but they can bring feelings of loss. To get somewhere new, we may have to leave somewhere else behind.” ~Fred Rogers 

For the past two years, I have traveled to a number of places on my own. I made these trips because after my divorce, reality hit: nothing is guaranteed in this life and I wanted to make sure I enjoyed as many places as possible. I was still a living, breathing, functioning human being. Losing someone that meant so much to me was not in my plan, but traveling was, and always will be. I set about making lists of all the travel destinations I wanted to pursue, along with times and dates for these journeys. Then I started planning and preparing. 

“Do not dwell in the past. Do not dream of the future. Concentrate the mind on the present moment.” ~Buddha

I was probably 12 or 13 years old when it started. I was sitting at the kitchen table in my childhood home, feeling left out, depressed, and envious. Nanny was in the living room with my younger sister and brother, and they were joking and giggling about something. I don’t recall what they were laughing about, and I don’t think it was at my expense, but at that moment I told myself no one loved me and I didn’t belong. 

“Life begins on the other side of despair.” ~ Jean-Paul Sartre 

When what appeared to be my forever life crumbled before my eyes a few years ago, I couldn’t see a way out of my despair and pain. All the memories, conversations, trips, and Netflix binges vanished along with my husband’s love, my house, and my happiness. I couldn't imagine a life without my husband. I had formed habits and routines around the life that he and I had created. I had been in a comfort bubble with no desire to leave.