1 year today

I knew I was feeling a sense of unease on Friday, a vague sense that regurgitation was imminent. And so it happened. I felt dazed, though unlike most times, I didn't feel any relief when it was over. It wasn't until Saturday afternoon I realized why.

When something shocking happens, we tend to force ourselves to do one of two things: Isolate ourselves from others, live like monks (without the self-discipline), fear our own shadow and voice and, depending upon how far we've descended, become sadly absorbed by our perception of how others must think of us.

Or, in contrast, we force ourselves to consciously design new coping mechanisms, reconfigure the ways in which we choose to define ourselves, become - and this is a big one - gloriously less aware of how we perceive the way we think others feel about us.

A lot has happened within this past year. Some of it is terribly shocking, and some of it is shockingly good. I've lost family members in a terribly shocking way. I've come to terms with my own feelings of self-worth in this world after becoming the victim of a shockingly violent attack. I've sought out neuro-therapy and seizure cures for the nerve and brain damage incurred during the attack. I've decided that I no longer want to identify with being a victim. I've made the decision to move back to an area of the U.S. that tends to conjure within me feelings of emotional bewilderment. However, I've also made the decision to let go of the helter skelter hare-brain who stalked my every move and gladly wielded way too much perverse power over my feelings of self-value. Although it's been a few years since I've seen his hatchet face in person, his wretched acts of destruction and psychological terrorism have long since followed me, strangling my every thought, leaving imprints on my every move. Just as he'd hoped for. I've made a solid decision to stamp him out of my life for good. If he ever does come back in any form, I can rest assured that I didn't invite him.

I used to cry a lot. Now I cry very little. I used to hide from the world, afraid to say anything, terrified to vocalize my opinions, my voyages, my successes, my failures. Now I'm tapping into my social reserves, lunging headfirst into (admittedly awkward) conversations with others, eager to learn new social cues. Whereas before, I would feel threatened by somebody who asked me to share something about myself, for the first time in years, I'm actually keen on sharing tidbits of who I am with those who ask.

When you suffer profound loss, you feel obligated to commit yourself to the darkest place you can find within yourself in an effort to somehow unearth some light. You forge an embittered path through the dark roots and thick forests of your mind and tread a delirious line between complete self-destruction and pretending you're normal out of a basic necessity for survival. You devise cockeyed methods for waking up in the morning to go to work: You will not cry at the drop of a hat, but you will shoot daggers with your eyes at anyone who dares cross you. You will not roll your eyes at your boss, but you do feel compelled to brazenly let your naked hostility shine upon anyone who has the nerve to bitch about a bad day that involves rainy weather or incompetent co-workers. You don't even realize the loss of clarity, the soul-crushing weight of negativity, the hopelessness you feel until the inevitable thunderbolt of heavy opaque darkness looms over you like a big black umbrella on a stormy morning burial. And then, little by little, some lightness appears.

Recently, I've experimented with a new kind of therapy called EFT, or Emotional Freedom Techniques. I would like to invite anyone who has ever been wracked with pain, feelings of negativity, grief, guilt, shame, sadness, or depression they believed to be incurable, to try EFT. It doesn't cost money, it doesn't cost much time, and it's honestly the best thing I could ever have done for myself. It seems kooky, but it works. Don't ask me how, I just know that it does.

Rest peacefully Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunties, Uncles, Cousins & Sharon Lee. Too much goodness went by much too fast.