It was quiet in the house and yet my mind was screaming. The worry and words spinning around my brain over the soft sounds of a puppy snoozing on the couch draped over a very hazy chemo-infused husband.
Where do I put this?
The heartache, the pain, the anger, the sadness, the fear and the maddening chaos I was carrying.
I tried to phone a friend or send a text, only to be met with the scripts embedded in our culture of surface level compassion.
“I’m praying for you.”
“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”
“Believe in miracles.”
I quickly learned the coping and guidance I’d need wouldn’t be found in the well-intended but often mis-guided responses.
Where do I put this?
Where do you put the pain when your world seems to be falling apart. I was 28 years old when my fiance was diagnosed with colon cancer. Our honeymoon was cancelled as we headed into chemotherapy. Every dream, every plan was lit on fire the day we heard the words cancer.
I had to unload the weight of the world that was wrapping around my neck.
“How to write a blog” I feverishly slammed into Google.
And so it started.
The place to put it was at my fingertips and I began to write. Flaming tears flowed down my cheeks, like the words that poured from my heart. Detailed descriptions of doctor’s expressions and the glare of a tile floor in the hospital as I recalled the loneliest moments of a waiting room while my husband lay inside on a surgery table. The words and painted colors and images I’d never forget but so deeply wanted to let go.
As I began to write, I found my voice. My role in the show that was my life, one that I’d been feeling cast out of. I shared our most intimate moments and fears and the more I wrote the more empowered I’d feel to own my own story as I wanted it told.
I’d found my place to put the pain and through that authentic voice I’d connect with thousands of others who were feeling the same.
Writing saved my life and now I want to share the same healing tool with anyone who will listen.
Let’s drink wine, cry and pound our keyboards together.
Join us: September 10 | 7pm est
A quick $25 donation gets you and helps us raise money to support caregivers who needs us.
*This event is open to anyone and everyone who has ever wanted to learn how to write, hear our story or just simply find a new tool to embrace heartache and turn to healing.*