"I am alive. I will survive."

"But suddenly you're ripped into being alive. And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my God you're alive and it's spectacular." - Joseph Campbell

The above quote is like a time release of wisdom - each time I read it I gain something from it. When Alex died it really did feel as if I was "ripped into being alive" - I didn't want to feel any of the things I was feeling, but I couldn't control it. I was alive, and that's what it felt like at that particular moment. The harder I tried not to feel and not to think, the more my mind raced with thoughts and ideas and conclusions.

I bought a book specifically about dealing and understanding sudden loss and it said to say this aloud to yourself: "I am alive. I will survive." Sounds simple enough, right? But telling yourself that when you don't want to be alive, you don't want to survive, is a challenge. It's a hard thing to come to terms with - and if I'm being completely honest, something that I'm not sure I will ever be able to fully accept. But I continue to say it to myself because it's true. (And because a little self-motivation never hurt anyone).

All of this really got me thinking about the most memorable moments in my life. I was surprised to discover that the most memorable are not the happiest of times. Why is that? I mean, I know why the most recent one is, but all of the other ones - none of them even compare to the loss of Alex so why do I choose to hold them at the front of my memory? I think a lot of the time we dwell on the bad things in our lives instead of reflecting and memorizing all of the good times, which really is a shame. 

So as much pain, suffering and loss I have to come to terms with, I am alive and it's spectacular in all of its messiness.