It's been almost 4 years since I lost Mikey. At the same time I lost my purpose. All the while getting older and years of pushing myself so hard catching up with me.
I struggled to get back to who I used to be. Recently I finally realized that person is gone and that's okay. I don't need to be her again.
Fighting through the fog of depression and poor health I found another me.
Months and months of fighting off one respiratory illness after another I was falling deeper and deeper into depression. I felt useless because I couldn't do the things I used to.
My family would come to help me. Change my bedding, clean my room, do my laundry. Feed me. It is a horrible feeling to have to fully rely on others. I knew I had to do or find something to keep my mind busy.
I knew I liked to write but just didn't feel I had the strength to form coherent sentences or paragraphs. Still, I got on pinterest and searched for journaling. Maybe if I just started writing something, anything, it would eventually work out.
I came across something called bullet journaling. It was a life changer for me. I bought what I needed and then some. I started making my own journal. Along this path I discovered a new me. A me I didn't even know existed. I'm no Michelangelo but I learned I have a knack for line drawing and children's illustration.
Today I am doing better. Mentally at least. I don't know what purpose my art will serve but I have sold some work already. That was a big esteem booster. Next month I'm doing a workshop to show others about journaling. How it is set up for each individual's needs. Not some company that just prints out pages that only get half used.
Death changes you. That doesn't have to be a bad thing. It might take time. Just don't give up. I almost did.