As both readers of this journal will have noted, the frequency, if not the length of my posts has decreased.
This has as much or more to do with my mental health as anything else, and I am happy to report that it is actually a good sign. This is not just because it realizes a net reduction in the number of words to which I subject my readers, but because it's good evidence that I no longer have the desperate need to write as a form of therapy.
Still here I am, two years after Pierre's death, struggling to find meaning without writing, and still failing, albeit not as catastrophically as before.
While it would seem that maudlin introspection is required to inspire me to write, of late I have been cursed with a good mood and a productive agenda which leaves little time for self-flagellating prose. Unless, of course, you count this piece, though I may not fulfill that expectation either.
Actually, in spite of the anniversary just passed, and in spite of the fact that it is cold, grey and wet today, I can't claim to be in a wretched mood. Perhaps my upbeat mental state has something to do with the fact that it actually snowed here today, but more likely it's because I just don't have a reason to be as depressed as I used to be.
I got pretty low last week, especially on the day before the anniversary. But, I spent a lot of time thinking about how and where I'd been just two years ago. Curiously, these were not the same anguished and self-doubting thoughts that have plagued me since the day of his death.
But why should they be? That's easy. There's no need. But, what do I think about now? What I know to be true about myself now?
One thing is certain: I have changed, yet again. I am no longer in mourning. Misery is no longer comfortable; Hurt no longer needs the daily attention I used to give it.
Simply put, I have gone back to living.
You know, I don't know if it's living well (have I ever lived well?), but I do know that my life requires more than anger or anguish.
For me, to live requires plans for the future and love of the moment. I have both.
1 comment:
And, I would venture to say, you are even changed from where you were a year ago when I saw you last.
I am fortunate to connect with you, though briefly, through social media and, oddly enough, it makes me feel closer to you. The little communiques, laughs, ironies, links and shared views broaden our base of connection like a mollusc on stone.
If there was one good thing Pierre did for us both, in life and in death, was to bring us closer.
Post a Comment