When someone says: “Expect the unexpected” Slap them and say: “You didn’t expect that did you?

It’s the little things… or perhaps, the big things. The line between them blurs, and I find myself questioning if they’re truly separate entities or intricately intertwined. After a considerable hiatus, the urge to put pen to paper has resurfaced, fueled by a persistent feeling that’s difficult to articulate.

This sensation stems from a culmination of seemingly inconspicuous details that have morphed into a singular, substantial entity. Amidst this amalgamation, the loss of Lorick stands out as an undeniable significant event—a truly big thing that has left an indelible mark on my life.

Reflecting on this, I’ve come to the realization that I was trapped in a state of paralysis. Stuck in the relentless routine of day-to-day life, I found myself mired in a profound sense of unhappiness. Interestingly, this stagnant state persisted even longer than Lorick’s absence, making me acutely aware of the gravity of my situation.

The little things, once dismissed, have coalesced into a formidable force, prompting me to confront the larger issues at play. It’s a journey of self-discovery and acknowledgment, a realization that the seemingly insignificant elements can wield profound influence, and that addressing them is pivotal to breaking free from the shackles of, stuck ness.

So, with this realization in mind, I made the conscious decision to unstick myself—a process I had been grappling with for quite some time. The challenge lay in identifying the right solvent to dissolve the stickiness that had held me captive.

Step one involved embarking on a quest to find a new job—one that would not just be a means of employment but a source of genuine fulfillment. I sought a role that would allow me to engage in activities that resonate with the essence of who I am, particularly my passion for helping others.

Step two required a leap of faith in trusting the process. Embracing change and believing in the journey ahead, even when the path seemed uncertain, became an integral part of this transformative process.

Then came step three—the pivotal moment of pulling the trigger. It was about making a definitive choice and committing to the decisions that would reshape my life. This step, though daunting, marked the initiation of a journey towards a more authentic and satisfying existence.

Step four, the final act, simply involved taking a breath and acknowledging that the deed was done. The culmination of these steps ushered in a new chapter, free from the constraints of stagnation. I had successfully dissolved the stickiness that once bound me, opening doors to possibilities and opportunities that align with my true self.

Having successfully navigated the journey of self-liberation, I found myself pondering the significance of sharing my experiences, particularly those intertwined with Lorick. The canvas of my life is adorned with a myriad of intriguing, diverse, and challenging experiences, each capable of enriching any conversation, regardless of who sits around the table.

However, this week—though it’s only Wednesday—I noticed a distinct inclination to bring my bipolar journey through life with Lorick to the forefront of these conversations. Surprisingly, both aspects of my experiences were unveiled like a meticulously prepared gourmet dinner, served to my unsuspecting guests.

It made me reflect on the nature of vulnerability and authenticity in storytelling. Lorick’s role in my life, with all its intricacies and challenges, became a poignant thread in the tapestry of my narrative. Sharing this facet allowed me to connect with others on a deeper level, fostering genuine understanding and empathy.

I realized that there is immense power in embracing the entirety of one’s journey, including the complexity of relationships and mental health. By bringing these experiences to the table, I created an opportunity for meaningful connections, transcending the superficial layers of conversation.

Yet, my grief remains a constant companion. Each day, its presence lingers, shrouded in an enigmatic ‘why’ that often eludes understanding. I find myself caught in a cycle of replaying moments, wrestling with regret, and fervently wishing for a different outcome. The harsh reality, however, is that I cannot alter the irreversible; Lorick is gone, and I am here, alive.

My pain, my enduring suffering, possesses a unique potential—a transformative power that could mend someone else’s brokenness. It struck me that, through the ability to lend a compassionate ear, an understanding mind, and a heart willing to help, I could channel my experiences into a force for healing.

Life, as I’ve observed, unfolds unevenly, distributing its fairness and unfairness without discernible rhyme or reason. Bearing witness to this inherent injustice, I acknowledge the weight of my own struggles. Yet, in embracing the unfairness, I’ve discovered an opportunity to do the right thing, to utilize my pain as a catalyst for positive change.

It’s an acknowledgment that life’s hardships can be repurposed to bring solace to others. Lorick, I believe, would find solace in the idea that his absence could serve a greater purpose, no matter the subject. Nurturing empathy, understanding, and healing in the lives of those who may share similar struggles.

No one is born bad.

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