I sit here alone. My husband, 40 years of age and in the prime of his life ended his life last year by suicide. I feel like I am just beginning to emerge from some dark fog that has held my heart, soul and mind prisoner. Today, I sit alone, one child away on a date, one at a friend’s house. A few years back I could have never imagined this would be my life, but here I am alone. I have often referred to my life on this journey of grief as being thrown in a fire. For a time I was in the midst of hell; the flames almost having a personality of their own. At times trying ever so hard to pull me into the burning embers. Each day has presented itself with a new struggle, a new obstacle to conquer. Being alone, I have had to become a jack of all trades, a handy woman if you will. A testament that one can stand alone even when they have been pushed to the breaking point. My journey through grief may not be unusual by any standards, but it is my journey through the flames and how I hope to emerge like a Phoenix with a loving heart, healthy soul and strong mind.
(Written: July 29th, 2008)
by Marie Debellis-SanchezTags: Depression, grief, hope