The second my husband died, I felt like I had been pistol-whipped in the jaw a few thousand times in a row. The simple things were hard like getting out of bed, taking a shower, and brushing my hair.
Justin was young, and we were just getting started. How could this have happened to us? All of our kisses, dreams, and memories had vanished in one split second, and no words could ever describe how it truly felt.
I was a widow for eight months when I finally woke up from the shock. Opening my eyes again was hard. As I looked into the mirror, I cursed my reflection. I saw a shadow, a near entity of the person I used to be.
For a long time, I marinated in my pain, in my grief. Mourning Justin became my crutch and my only connection to him. I was lost, and I didn’t know if I would ever find my way back.
What happens when you put all of your happiness into one person?
Justin and I were by no means perfect. We argued, and we made up like most married couples. Throughout our 10-year-marriage, we had ups and downs, but we were both in it for the long-haul. Justin made me feel safe.
Our relationship gave me confidence, and it gave me strength. I never suspected anything would threaten it, not even death.
After going through so much pain, I realize just how incredible the human mind is. Even when faced with the worst circumstances, it can grow, adapt, and overcome. It can transform into something new.
Because my mind has already passed over to the dark side, it sees the world differently; it sees it for what it really is.
The power to choose
My son loves storytime, and one of his favorite books is called: The Power to Choose. I love this book and use it as an instructional tool to encourage him to make positive choices throughout the day. It makes the decision-making process fun by introducing “the power to choose” as a superpower.
The book is interactive. It presents the reader with a situation for the antagonist, Danny, and gives you two choices to make. One decision requires discipline while the other acts on impulse.
Each decision brings Danny down a different path, and each one results in a different outcome for his day. There are seven different outcomes in total, and it’s up to the reader to choose which ending Danny will land on.
Practice what we preach
I believe adults could learn a lot from this book. What if we did this in our own lives? We could take the advice we give to children and apply it to our lives as an adult. Like Danny, we can think through our decisions instead of acting on our feelings.
I know a lot of people say things like: I wouldn’t change a thing about my past. But I call bullshit. I know I would go back to New Year’s Eve 2018 and stop myself from taking that disgusting Fireball shot. I know I would hold my tongue instead of mouthing off to my mom at 16.
Having the power to choose means we have control over certain aspects of our lives — more than we might realize. If we do have the power to choose, we should have power over our happiness.
Having a good day can make a difference
I cried every day for 18 months after Justin died. Living was like watching the clock at a job I hated. Only, instead of waiting to clock-out, I was waiting to expire. I wasn’t completely lost because I still enjoyed spending time with my son, singing, and writing occasionally. But nothing made me happy. I wondered if I would ever be happy again.
Then one day the unthinkable happened — I had a really good day, and it came out of nowhere. It was Christmas time, a time I used to love but had avoided since Justin was shot. After his death, the holidays were nothing more than a stain on my heart, a constant reminder of what I’d lost.
But for some reason, that day was different. Instead of avoiding the traditions, I embraced them. I went Christmas shopping, ate lunch with my mom, and drove around looking at Christmas lights. As my 18-month-old son giggled at a tacky display of Santa Claus, my heart smiled.
I could feel his excitement, the excitement of an innocent mind, the mind I used to have. When I put him to bed that night, I had an epiphany: I remembered what it felt like to be happy. My heart had been covered in tar, frozen in grief, for so long that I had forgotten that feeling. I was finally ready to wash it clean.
Joy is powerful
After reconnecting with joy, I decided to fight for it. I craved more good days than bad. It was time to laugh, smile, and feel happy again. I felt inspired for the first time since Justin’s death, and I told myself to embrace this new desire to live.
The new me
It’s been five years since that day, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t still have bad days. Sometimes, I have bad weeks. When I feel the darkness working its way back into my heart, it scares me. The pain is too familiar and sometimes, I welcome it. It’s like going back to an abusive boyfriend.
But now, it’s different. The grief doesn’t get a permanent pass to stay as long as it likes. Instead of letting it take up space, I evict it. I force it to move out. I move forward because I choose to be happy.
You can choose your path, too
I realize that for some, this might seem impossible. Some traumas and losses cut so deep that the wounds will never fully heal, but they can scab over. I am a testimony to that.
Recently, a friend of mine came to me with a problem. She was worried about a loved one. “I’m worried that he will never find peace and that he will never find happiness again. He’s going to therapy but he’s not doing his homework. He’s not loving himself,” she said.
I told her that it was okay to be concerned and that I understood her need to save him. But I also told her that it was a waste of time because, in the end, he could only save himself.
Put mental health first
Of course, clinical depression and mental health disorders are not choices. It breaks my heart to think about how many people had to suffer in silence for so long. But I’m happy that we are finally talking about it.
Obviously, someone who is depressed or navigating other mental health issues can’t just “choose to be happy.” These are very serious illnesses, and these individuals should be under the care of a professional.
But I do believe you still have to choose your path. Maybe that path includes medication, maybe it includes therapy, and maybe it includes both.
I went to therapy for a while, sometimes twice a week. It was an essential part of my recovery. I also took anti-depressants and anxiety medication. These things helped me during my darkest days. They helped me get out of bed, they helped me eat, but they did not make me happy because I had to chose that for myself.
Find what works for you
Going to therapy is only half the battle. You have to do the work, in the beginning, to get out of bed. But then, you also have to do your homework by finding some kind of passion, some kind of joy in life.
You have to find what makes your heart smile. No one can find that for you.
I believe that as an individual, we all have the power to choose. We are the only ones who can decide how we live and how we feel.
Just like Danny, you have to choose where you will land. Only we can choose to be happy.
