Sad things.

photo 3

I write about sad things.  But I am not a sad person.  A lot of sad things have happened to me in a short span of my life, and for a long while – a twelve month or so period that I’ve labeled The Lost Year – I couldn’t write at all.  I tried and failed many, many times, but I couldn’t crystalize my emotions into sentences that made any sense, or had any meaning.

When I emerged from the darkest of the dark, there was no denying that I was a different person.  At once stronger, and yet more fragile.  I didn’t want anything that happened to me.  I didn’t want to lose three of the most important people in my life, nor did I want to be forced to confront painful truths about my family – and ultimately, myself – through their loss.  I would give anything for things to be the way they were, to live in blissful ignorance once again.  But life doesn’t work that way.

So here I am.  And somewhere in the eye of the storm, in the midst of the vortex, I found my voice again.  And I started to write.  Grateful to be able to once again put my thoughts into words, to be able to finally express myself, I have been writing a lot.  And I’ve been writing a lot of sad things.  But I write about sad things not because I’m a depressive, but because I’m an optimist.  Because through it all, I’m still hopeful.  I still believe that people are essentially good.  I still believe in love.  Even though I’ve been gut-kicked by life, even though my edges are sharper, I’m not bitter or cynical or jaded.  I write painful truths about my family not because I’m angry with them, but because you’re only as sick as your secrets and we kept far too many of them and I don’t want to be complicit in the secret-keeping any more.

So I’m going to continue to write sad things, because I want to get better.  I’m going to continue to explore the dark because it’s the only way to reclaim the light.  I’m going to continue to be honest because I’ve seen too much and lived through too much to be anything else.  And I’m going to continue to tell my story, even though I know it will be painful, even though I know it will cost me something, because there is someone out there who wishes they could do the same and can’t.  And if there’s even a chance that in my quest to heal my heart, in my journey to become a whole person again, that I can help someone else do the same, then it’s all worth it.

Stay tuned.

Until next time, friends.

11 thoughts on “Sad things.

  1. You’re only as sick as your secrets.
    Unbelievable. I congratulate you on your clarity and conviction. You are healing the very humanity with your words.

  2. I applaud you for writing. Over the past 15 years I haven’t been able to write or pick up a pastel. I used to be able to, but it died somewhere inside while I was going through hell. Now I’m able to write almost every day. I’m glad you’re being open about your story, my family has many secrets as well, that I intend to bring to light whatever the cost. This was beautifully written.

  3. I love what you have written and i wish you well for your journey, unfortunately for me my personal journey of secrets must never be told to anyone, but myself because they are too painful. I look forward to reading your journey x

  4. I love reading your blog, like you I have a lot of troubles in the past. And I use my Blog (New) to try and relate with people and help encourage ourselves together. I too have a lot of secrets to share with the world about my life and my family in a postive way although a lot of it is negative.

    Thank you for being brave and sharing your story ❤

  5. This is not only good because you’re an excellent writer but I think the reason we like it is because it’s straight from your heart. You may be fragile but you’re definitely brave for speaking your heart and brain out. That takes a lot of courage.
    Stay optimistic! Lots of love and light, Zareen ❤

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