Moving on

By me

A year today, tragedy hit every ounce of my being. I was not ready for that. When I was a kid, I always thought I wanted to be grown up when my mother died, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of that loss. A year today, and I am still alive. It's not that the thought of giving up hasn't crossed my mind, but I have held on to life just a little longer. These past 12 months have probably been the hardest year of my life.

I have been on a roller-coaster of emotions and depression. Losing jobs, friends, and family members who ghosted me has been a harsh blow. From being the guy who entered a club and spent 30 minutes saying hi to everyone, to now counting less than a handful of friends, is pretty drastic. Don’t you think?

It's a long way home, because in the end, that's where we are all headed.

In this year of heartache and upheaval, I have learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. I have faced days where getting out of bed seemed impossible and nights where sleep eluded me entirely. The pain of loss has been an unrelenting companion, yet somehow, I have managed to hold on.

The job losses were a blow to my confidence. Each rejection felt like another confirmation that I was failing, that I wasn't good enough. The friendships that dissolved added to my sense of isolation. People I thought would be there for me disappeared, leaving a void that felt insurmountable. The betrayal stung, deepening my sorrow.

Yet, amid this darkness, I found small glimmers of hope. I discovered the strength within me that I never knew I had. I learned to find solace in solitude and to appreciate the few genuine connections that remained. The friends who stood by me, though few, became my lifeline, reminding me that I wasn't entirely alone.

I also realized the importance of self-care and mental health. Therapy became a safe space where I could unravel my tangled emotions and start to heal. I began to understand that it's okay to ask for help, that vulnerability isn't a weakness but a sign of courage.

The journey of grief is unpredictable and non-linear. Some days, I felt like I was making progress, only to be knocked back down by a wave of sorrow. But each time, I got up again, even if it was just to take one small step forward. I learned to celebrate those small victories and to be kinder to myself.

In this year of immense struggle, I found a sense of resilience. I learned that life, even in its darkest moments, holds the potential for growth and transformation. The pain of losing my mother will never completely fade, but I am learning to live with it, to carry it as part of my story.

A year today, I am still standing. I am not the same person I was before, and that's okay. I am stronger, more compassionate, and more aware of the fragility of life. The road ahead is still long and uncertain, but I am learning to navigate it with a newfound sense of hope and determination.

Because in the end, it's a long way home, and we are all just finding our way. Be kind.

Wilfred Marrero

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