So, I've had a hard time picking myself up after this past week and the loss of my grandma. I know I'm not the first person to lose a loved one, but I must admit it feels that way sometimes. Part of it is that no one close to me has ever passed before, and part of it is that this was my grandma. My only grandma. Long story, but she was it. As my grandpa is my only grandpa. It's hard to let go and I find myself tearing up at random moments.
Writing hasn't even been a possibility for the past week, and I'll admit it's more about being too sad to muster the energy. My characters have been knocking, but I've been too tired and emotionally drained to answer right now. I've been reading a lot -- watching movies. I happened to have August Rush waiting for me when I got home, and it has this really great scene where someone (no spoilers!) is telling August to never give up on his music. Because that's the one place he can escape to and let go of all the bad things in the world. It really hit a nerve with me, and I've given it a lot of thought. August had his music, and I have my writing. I shouldn't feel guilty for writing, for wanting to get back to my story so soon. It's the place I feel safe, where I'm happiest, where I can go to heal.
So, today I pulled up a blank page and just wrote. About my grandma. It was hard, I cried, but yanno, I feel better.
Am I cured? Heck no. But it's a step. Perhaps I can even work a little on FI soon.