To be honest, January is always my worst month, and this year hit me harder than I had anticipated. While I didn’t mind the snow and freezing temperatures, my emotional state suddenly plummeted when it rained. I switched into survival mode as old memories came flooding back, threatening to drown me.
The anniversary date has now come and gone, and I can breathe again. I can exist again.
I don’t think of myself as one of those modern trendy authors who writes fan fiction of all my sordid fantasies. I’m old fashioned, and I enjoy exploring the question of what it means to be human — particularly in the face of trauma — and I hope to gain a better understanding of myself.
Life is too precious to bumble through without trying to understand it.