A few years back I was in an emotionally-taxing internship. One of the ways I kept myself from giving in to depression was through writing and publishing poetry online. That poetry became a book, my heart poured out.
Now I’m a wife and a mama to my dear 9-month-old Beyla girl and the three of us find ourselves starting over from scratch after losing everything to toxic mold. This time I’m facing the stress by sharing sort of a daily diary here. I’m not sure exactly what it will look like… poetry, prose, pictures… All I know is it will be my heart poured out.
One week from today I will finally be in my husband’s arms again.
When we realized we had to flee the mold I came to Arizona, he stayed in Kansas. After seven weeks apart we spent two weeks together regrouping, reevaluating, reorienting. Next week’s reunion will mark the end of another five weeks apart.
Military families do this all the time, I tell myself… Yet military families do not do it without any warning whatsoever and while dealing with mental and physical illness caused by the threat that tore them apart.
Facing mold is unlike facing anything else.
Today is hard.
I don’t want to talk about it.
I’m trying not to let it show.
I don’t understand.
Why does it have to be so hard?
I can count my blessings…
Tell you all about them.
But even a pile of blessings
doesn’t make the hard go away.