Where is “me”?

It has been three years since I have known the person who lives inside of my head.

When Willie starting down that spiral, I became nothing more than instinct. Raw and simple. I focused on what needed to be done. Day after day it was just survival. Appointments and meetings and trying. So much effort and so much energy focused into that one singular goal of keeping him safe and getting him help.

Then he died. The person inside my head shunted to a new level of survival. A focus of one foot in front of the other.

The months passed, the years now pass.

I sit now tonight and wonder where I am hiding inside of me. So buried underneath the hurt and the grief of missing him. Anger, so much anger, fills me, hiding me.

I don’t recognize myself anymore. I have spells of time that I am me again but they never last.

Gone, seemingly, is the woman who believed in – and knew -her strength. The woman who didn’t doubt that she would be ok, that she could be ok. The woman who had sought out her own dreams and hopes and who had the drive to know she would make them happen… disappeared now it feels like.

I look in the mirror and see eyes looking back that I don’t know. Windows to a soul that is changed and that I can’t quite connect with anymore.

I wonder if who I am now is this…and that thought scares me.


2 thoughts on “Where is “me”?

  1. I happened to remember a very beautiful quote after reading this, “Everyone has gone through something that has changed them in a way, they can never go back to being the person they had been”.

    Indeed, each one of us has dreams. When we are kids, we have this pre-defined notions of the person we want to be when we grow up. We live through our days, thinking about this person and pledging that we’ll become so.

    But halfway through the tale, something changes. We change. People change. And suddenly, we are no longer the person we had always wanted to be. It’s a scary transition – to look into the mirror and not identify the person who looks back at you. This is not me, you tell yourself.

    Our universe is funny. It gives us hope and then crashes us down, ten feet under. Sometimes the person in the mirror is stronger than the person you had wanted to be. At other times, it wears a facade and deceives you all the while.

    Keep strong.


  2. What lovely but sad words, I too look in the mirror but don’t see the real me anymore. I look at pictures before my daughter died and think is this still what I look like on the outside. Sendings lots of love

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