Wow! I can’t believe that it’s been over a year since I started Did She Have Passion?! The past year has been amazing, and I have learned so much, not only about myself, but also about my computer and the internet!
A year ago, I was having severe panic attacks at the thought of returning to work after taking several months off following Grubby’s death. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my job or the people I worked with. Actually, quite the contrary – I loved my job and MOST of the people I worked with! It was fear of failure, fear of knowing that I was still having mostly bad days and I would not be effective in my job. It was fear of letting my bosses and coworkers down. It was fear of not following a lifelong dream. That voice inside my head kept whispering, “If not now, then when?”
As I wrestled with the decision to leave, knowing that it was best for me at the time, I kept quiet about it at first. I didn’t want to be judged for leaving a very good job to take a risk by starting this blog and writing. People had been telling me that I should go back to work, that it would keep me busy and “take my mind off of” Grubby’s death! As if!!!
The thing about grief is that it never really goes away. You can’t just turn it on and off like a light switch, and you can’t really take your mind off of it. It’s always there, just under the surface, waiting for the moment to come and sucker punch you again. Grubby was not the first death I’ve experienced, but he was the closest, which makes this one different, and yet, I still grieve sometimes for my Uncle Lee, my Mamaw, my Grandmother… So, it’s true that grief never really leaves you. You may be able to push it down, to ignore it, and even deny it, but eventually, grief will bubble to the surface, and you will find it staring you in the face, daring you to run from it.
As Sailors, we were taught to bury it, to push it down, to let tragedy roll off your back and keep fighting. It was the same in Law Enforcement. We could not have feelings, or at least, we could not let them show. We could not seek therapy out of fear that we would lose our jobs. I still sought therapy after Lee’s murder, but not through official channels, just through the Navy’s Fleet and Family Service Center because I was afraid that it would somehow negatively affect my career. This was proven eight years later when I self-referred to the Navy’s rehab program for alcoholism and was subsequently called into the office to surrender my badge and my gun cards.
When Lee was killed, I remember being at the International Bazaar a couple of months later and buying a set of ceramic salad servers from Italy for a Christmas present for Lee and Carol. I didn’t think about that until I was wrapping all the presents and putting them in the box to ship them home. As I held those servers, I remembered that the thought when buying them was that they would be a nice present for Lee and Carol, NOT just Carol. The grief came yet again. But I have digressed from the original intent of this post.
A year ago, when I decided to leave work and pursue my passion full-time, I was uncertain about whether or not I would be okay. I sat with the decision for several weeks before I actually told people, just to see how it fit. As I look back, I can honestly say that it was the right decision. I have been able to be here for Abby when she gets home from school. I’ve taken naps when I needed them. I spent many afternoons in the summer just floating in the pool. I’ve been able to go to therapy regularly, and I’ve been able to fall apart and turn into a blubbering mess as I cry ugly tears again. I didn’t have to shorten trips or not take them altogether.
I’m gaining readers, which ultimately is my goal. I can write from anywhere, so vacations don’t usually stop me from writing. For thirty years, I wrote in journal after journal, filling the pages. Now, I write here, and no longer hide in a book that’s tucked away in my hope chest. I’ve had to learn how to build and maintain a website (I’m still learning this!), and now, I am learning how to make voice recordings of my blogs. My little blog has grown from just a few family and close friends to people I don’t know, but who have found something in my words. I hope that, as you continue to follow my blog and read my words, you find compassion, love, hope, encouragement, and even laughter. Thank you, my dear followers, for humoring a middle-aged woman who’s just following a dream…
You are a very Strong Lady. I am very proud to call You my Friend.