I thought I knew who I was before Zuka died. When I left my children’s father Zuka was a baby and I was pregnant with our second child. It was an incredibly difficult relationship that involved violence. I wasn’t strong enough to leave on my own but when the abuse continued I knew I could be strong for them. I was strong. I went to college full time, worked and raised my children. I was proud of myself. I knew whatever happened that I had my children to be strong for. No matter who came in and out of my life I had one thing I could always count on, my children would be there.
I had worked through past trauma, I had goals. I felt whole for the first time in my life. I thought I knew what my future looked like. I looked forward to watching him graduate college, see him getting married, having grandchildren. I had this whole exciting picture in my mind of what life was going to be. I saw both of my children coming home for holidays, still teasing one another, joking around, and doing their crazy dances. My husband and I having a beautiful home for that the kids and grandchildren could always come home to. I had security, or so I thought.
When Zuka took his life that night, everything fell apart. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I fell apart. I lost my job. I lost myself. I lost my foundation, my sense of security. I lost myself. I am not the person I used to be, I am working hard to figure out what that new picture will look like. Who am I and who am I becoming? It's frightening. For months I just stayed stuck, frozen in time. I am now working hard to figure out all the changes in my mind. Where will I be in 5 years? Hell, where will I be in one year. Am I finding myself or creating myself? I don't know what I am doing but struggling like hell to move on from this frozen place, find happiness again. I have hope, that's all I can cling to right now. At least I have hope.