The Project – Finding the Shadow

A woman stares back from the mirror, though she’s not who I was expecting to see. Something in the pallor of her sun-starved skin and sunken eyes ages her in a way for which my heart was unprepared.

There’s familiarity in the slight crook of her nose, in the ears that are too large for her face. And while her eyes haven’t changed, there’s a deep sorrow that doesn’t exist in my memories. A haunted vacancy in her gaze. A disappointed resignation.

With a slight rush, I search for something I can’t name, for something more than unchanged eyes, a familiar nose. Where is her hunger? The passion for life that I can so clearly recall?All I see is unmasked defeat, a pleading, in the way she stares back at me.

A gaze that says, “please, bring me back to life.”

I feel it set in, the same resignation so painted on her face. It is a mirror, after all. My body begins to feel its weight, though my heart carries the burden most. Who is this woman before me? She’s not one I know. I cast my gaze away and leave her behind with a soft click of the light.

Eight weeks ago, I took a leave of absence from work. My mind had become a toxic plane of brittled confidence, heavy depression, and debilitating anxiety. I was overwhelmed and overworked, a condition I’ve both lived with and was pushed to by the job I was at. It was like I was holding my breath to survive in a world without oxygen. Pained and dizzy and with my lungs at their limit, I knew I was in trouble because I’ve been here before.

So I hit pause, and I began to write. Everything and anything, though often nothing. I want to create beauty from pain, even if that pain gets in the way now and again. I will write of hope, and love. Love so pure that we begin to believe in accepting ourselves. At least, this is what I will aspire to. I will dream of a day when my character sketches, scene descriptions, and moments of tenderness come together to form a book that can be touched by both the hand and heart of readers who need it.

For now, I’ll hold tightly to this dream and the feeling that writing brings me. It’s teaching me to breathe again, as if the pages are my oxygen.

Category: The Project

Self Portrait (Narrator) – Character Sketch (1)

Breathe, then write.