I'm Back!

How do we pick up the pieces of life, shuffle them back into order and move on after tragedy?  I talked in my last blog post about losing my writer voice and fighting to get it back.  I struggled for several weeks, unable to think past anything but the sorrow surrounding me and my disheveled life.  Can you say pity party?  Yes, so could I—many times over.  But, then it was time to pull it together and move forward.  The question was, how to do that?

I decided, as a writer, the only way I was going to be normal again was to write.  So, I started writing notes in a word document.  I left it open on the desktop of my computer and would add to it every day.  At first, it was one line per day.  Then, it was two lines.  Soon, I was able to write a paragraph, even though it was similar to tooth extraction.

This was when I realized a valuable fact for any writer: The only way to get past writer’s block is to write. 

I knew I needed to move on and begin work on my next story, and soon.  Days were slipping by and no progress was being made.  It didn’t matter what disaster struck in my life, schedules must be adhered to.  I have goals!  I have dreams!  My mother would not have wanted me to throw that away to wallow in grief over her loss.  So, I pushed on and kept writing.  I finally declared myself healed when I wrote this at two o’clock in the morning one night when I couldn’t sleep…

When this battle began, I thought it was just that; A battle.  Battles are won or lost and the participants on both sides move on; go home.  And yet here I am, stranded in a sea of loss.  There is no end to the gray mist that swirls around my limbs, chaining me to this place.  If I had known where this path led, would I have so readily skipped down it toward my doom?  If I had known the length of the weary hours without rest, would I have been so eager to leave? If I had known then the agony of a hunger for something just out of reach, would I have gone?  I don’t know.  Yes, because I’m stupid and brave that way. 

Where am I?  We will call it a wasteland of everything left behind.  Dreams, hopes and loved ones are buried here.  Everything that once wrapped around me—pulling shards of existence together to make me human, is gone.  I’ve cried.  I’ve screamed.  I’m quite certain I’ve complained.  But now, it‘s time to step free of the mire.  I pull away from this darkness knowing the strange truth that I am blessed. For, I survive. I breathe sweet air.

I can feel the bonds that have held me captive here falling away and I’m thankful.  For, even though night still covers this land, I can hear birds singing in the trees.  Soon it will be daybreak.  The sun will once again shine on me.

I’m back!  I can write again!  A LORD’S BLACK HEART, here I come to tackle you!  My point is this:  If you fear something, do what you fear to overcome it.  If you struggle with something, practice your weakness to overcome it.  And if you have writer’s block, write!

What’s your great comeback story?  I’d love to hear it.