Emerging from Survival Mode

Sometimes I don't recognize myself anymore. I feel like my life is a black and white picture; still beautiful, but lacking vibrancy. Color is what makes the world beautiful. The "color" of my life has faded. It's not depression. The picture is still beautiful. It's just lacking some of what makes me so beautiful.

I've felt a yearning for these things the last few weeks/months. It's a yearning for passion and to become whole again. Fear has held me back. If I let myself really live, what will happen if something else comes along and makes me shut down? Black and white is still beautiful after all. Much more beautiful than a world with no light.

The reality is I've been in survival mode. I don't know when I first entered it, but I know that if I wasn't in it before, my mom's diagnosis with cancer threw me into it. As her cancer progressed, and especially when she died, I had a hard time doing anything I loved. Part of that was depression. Much of it is what I loved, so did she. What I did reminded me too much of her. My passion was quelled by my pain.

Tonight is the anniversary of my mom's death. The last few days have been hard, yet while today is sad, I feel like a burden has lifted. I will miss my mom every day for the rest of my life, but if I made it one year, I can make it a few more.

I can finally emerge from survival mode.

My cage door has been opened and I can fly out...but what now?

How do you go back to who you used to be? I don't ever want to forget what's happened. I don't want to be the person I was in that sense, but I want my passions back. I used to be a very passionate person. I LOVED languages and learning. I loved to write, to read, to sing, pretend to dance, and to make music. I loved to create things with my hands, to spend time outside, to draw and create art. Those were my passions.

Inside of me I can feel them stirring, trying to get out. Periodically in the last year, pieces of them have emerged. I started reading again...though I keep forgetting to finish books (something I never would have done before!). I tried to write a couple of times. Both times, my motivation ended quickly. I keep telling myself I'll join choir. I've played the keyboard a few times. I've started several creations. I even made a collage. I tried to start learning french again. But nothing has stuck. My passions have been caged inside.

The process of bringing my passions, my colors, back into my life will take some time, but I think I'm ready. As beautiful as those mountains look in black and white, they are much more beautiful when you can see the colors of the sunset above them. So it is with my life. I will emerge more beautiful than I am if I can finally let my passions have a piece of my life again.

It will still be hard. When I play the piano or when I sing, I will probably still think of my mom. Writing will still remind me of her. So will flowers, dirt, french, reading, crochetting, and even eating popcorn. But today I feel like I will be able handle that. My mom is a piece of who I am. A big piece.

Today I can remember her without crying.

Today I am emerging from survival mode.