I have not written a post in a while and I can’t really explain why other than when I sit down to write, nothing comes out. It used to pour out of me like water flowing from a jug. Writing was effortless. Pain does that. When in the fire, words come so easily. Without really any true effort, the posts just kept coming, week after week and month after month.
Now I am faced with this empty page that I have been staring at for weeks, maybe even months. I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the mud. I exist somewhere between the sorrow of a broken heart and a life I’m trying to fit into. Every word is hard. Every thought is like sludge. Nothing really comes out worth writing about.
This empty page is representative of where I am right now in this moment. Some of it is grief, some of it fighting off the demons of grief, some of it is tired of grief. Grief is exhausting and when it’s “that time of year” it’s grueling. I just don’t want to think about it. But my body has a mind of it own and says “this is you and this is what happened to you” – own it. But I don’t want to anymore.
Grief is all I’ve know for the past 30+ years. All types of grief. And at varying stages. It’s worn me down. I’m tired. This time every year I am at war with grief. I don’t want it anymore. I just don’t want to think about. But yet it returns and creates havoc over my life until it settles in for the long winter months of hibernation.
So while this seems a bit “dark” and I can imagine you might be concerned, don’t be. I go through this every year. Then it passes one day and the sun comes back out and I feel my heart begin to beat again.
It’s during these dark times, I keep busy, avoid it and try not to let it over take me. But as I am often reminded, grief never ceases. It has to be reconciled. God put me on this path for a reason. One that I plan on asking him about one day. For what purpose has all of this suffering been for. I can’t even bring myself to think about it all. One day I may know but for now I just write so people know they are not alone when these dark days loom over them. They will come and they will go.
The choice is always to take a deep breath and move through it, write about it and send it on it’s way.
Until next time,