I am a firm believer that empathy only leaves you when you’ve convinced your mind that no one cares about your pain. If yours doesn’t matter, why should theirs? And when I sit somewhere and I look up at a metal roof—first, I think of my husband. Second, I think of the crash. Third, I think of that man’s eyes.
While therapy and exercise have been beneficial for me when needing to clear my mind, address my grief, and work on self-discovery, writing has been the most accessible and enjoyable. In light of mental health awareness month, I wanted to share some of my journal ramblings with you. Writing has always been an outlet for me, whether it’s creative or therapeutic or both; it serves what I need in the moment. Crafting a story, structuring a narrative, or letting my stream of consciousness flow in whatever direction it needs, it allows me to zone out and then focus all in one place.