“It didn’t kill me … but something changed.
A piece of me lost … forever estranged.
I walked away … yet not the same.
A shadowed soul … a quiet flame.
That day took part of who I was …
left me searching, without a cause.
I carry on … but feel the void.
A heart once whole … now destroyed.
It didn’t end me … but I’m not whole.
An echo remains deep in my soul.
I’m here … I breathe … but truth denied …
A part of me that day quietly died.”

{Author Unknown}

You’ve oft heard it said, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!” Indeed, I wholeheartedly agree! HOWEVER, what prolly also should be said literally every time someone utters those ever so famous “seven words” is:

“… but not before it literally fucking BREAKS you first”!

I’ve had the, err, “privilege” of one of these “falling to your knees and screaming” moments three times now. The first was more of an internal raging scream at that moment my nugget of a daughter slipped into the next room, headed to The Brighter Side Of Grey, and flew off with a piece of my soul. The second was that night back in 1999 when one of the less than a handful of men I’ve ever truly loved hopped on his Harley and rode head-first into a brick wall going 90mph with no helmet. The third was on August 23, 2019, when the police chief of Parker, Texas walked into the hospital where my daughter was also shattering to tell me they’d found my husband dead in his car courtesy of the hollow point he’d put in his own head:

No, I don’t think God was laughing that day or that He laughs on any of the days we spend facing the wrath of His angels. In fact, I’m certain that He was on that hospital wailing WITH me and holding me tight as every shred of what I’d come to believe as truth turned out to be the devil’s lie. God DID give me wings, but it was MY job to learn to fly. I had to face not just Zack’s, but my own “devil in the mirror” before I could ascend to the sky.

(“I’m Alright, Thanks For Asking.”)

So, yeah, I’m still here and none of those moments killed me, but here’s to that sorry ole devil for trying, right? (#IMWINNING, lol!) I guess what I’m saying is that if you haven’t had one of these moments yet, God love you. No, seriously.

Even more seriously, though, while this, err, “fight club” of sorts really really stinks and the membership fee sucks massive BALLS, know that once you get your card you’ll be welcomed and embraced by the rest of us who’ve gone toe to toe with everything that was meant to break us and lived to tell about it! Until then, take NOTHING and NO ONE for granted, please. Life is precious and so is your mental wealth, so here’s hoping that when (and not if) your time finally comes to hit the floor and shatter, you’ll find every bit of power, grace, fortitude, and resilience hiding within yourself to join the ranks of us who’ve SURVIVED (and even THRIVED) “post-mortem”. And oh, yah, one more thing …

“#MEMENTOMORI“!