Dear Lucy,

It's been four months since I asked mom for help. It's been three months since I started seeing a therapist (her name is Jennifer, and she suggested I start journaling). So far, I like it!

These letters are supposed to be an opportunity for me to explore thoughts and feelings that may not feel appropriate to be shared. A place to be vulnerable as she said. So in the spirit of being vulnerable, I think I will take it back to when this started. When I asked mom for help, I felt so ashamed. I felt so weak and pathetic. I mean I had gone four years without Jack up to that point, so how could I know that setting out again on my own would result in a situation like this? Where I was basically a robot, going about living life like I was checking off boxes.

Mom had told me she had been monitoring my behavior for weeks before she finally called me out that day. She never told me how it must have felt, seeing your daughter slip into oblivion. I doubt she would tell me anyway.

Nevertheless, we are here. I put my two weeks in at my crappy transcriber job with Brad since the 100% remote work wasn't probably that good for me. I've set up a new job as a social media manager at a new bakery called "Dough Re Mi." Technically, I would still be remote for a majority of the work. However, the bakery is only 10 minutes from my apartment, so I can pop by as much or as little as I want. Plus, the owners, Sophie and Terry, already seem to care about me so much more than my old work did.

Part of improving my daily life, I have been finding more opportunities to go outside and doing activities that make me happy. For example, I have started shopping more since I would never leave the house on the weekdays when I had work, so even if I went out on the weekends, it was only to buy necessities. But the other day I bought myself new pastel green sneakers!

There are so many things at play about why I began sinking the way I did, but I think a big part of me felt like I didn't deserve happiness. I didn't deserve to move on. I couldn't have it because Jack wasn't around. Jennifer has helped me through this thought process by reminding me that Jack would not have wanted me to be sad, especially for this long. He would want me to pursue my dreams and find happiness even though he is gone now.

In that spirit, I want to be so happy that I drown in it. I want to laugh till my stomach aches. I want to feel excitement like you would have before a field trip in elementary school. The kind of excitement where you plan your outfit the night before, and you can't sleep. I want that happiness. The people in my life want that happiness for me. I deserve to find that happiness.

Yours,

Lucy

...

"How have writing those letters been going? I know we agreed you wouldn't share them with me, but you certainly have been writing more."

"They've been good. Writing the letters is cathartic in a way. I know I have a problem with communicating my thoughts and feelings with others, so it's nice having the letters as an outlet. I can talk about things that may not be relevant to what we are working on or going through, and it's still helpful."

Jennifer offers me a kind smile as she asks me another question, "Does writing the letters remind you of the goals you set when we first met?"

Our first meeting. Three months ago, on the dot. Mom and dad had helped me find a therapist in the area that I could talk to. One that took my insurance and also was seeing new patients, which is the primary reason it took a month after asking for help to find a therapist.

Jennifer obviously asked me what brought me in that day. It felt like a multiple-choice question, but all the answers seemed to go back to Jack.

I shared all about what was going on recently, what had happened over the past eight months, and everything over the past five years. Not too easy for a 50 minute session.

"I said I wanted to be independent. Independent in the sense that I can provide for myself and look after myself without cause or concern from anyone. I also want to be a person who is dependable and who can support others just like the people who supported me. And I want to find and bring back that girl who has wants and dreams so much bigger than this. I want her to see that she still has so much life left in her."

Jennifer and I each share a grin as we wrap up our meeting. Jennifer reminds me for the third time that she will not be able to see me for a month since she is going on vacation with her family on a cruise to Alaska for a week, then she's staying with her in-laws for two weeks. The last week is for recovery.

I wish her safe travels as I shut the door to her office. Let's see what else today has in store for me.

* * * 

The drive from Jennifer's office to my apartment is about 20 minutes, so it's the perfect opportunity to listen to some music to get me ready for the rest of my day.

The reason being because today is my last day at my old job! I put in my two weeks, and now, it is my last day, which wouldn't be anything exciting if it weren't for the fact that I am doing my exit interview with Brad. 

I wouldn't say that I am nervous, but I'm not looking forward to it either. I think the part that is tripping me up is that I don't know he will react. Will he be super understanding and wish me luck? Will he be his usual self and probably say something among the lines of "I wish I could leave too!"? Will it be so painfully boring that I literally collapse on the floor?

Of course, not only is leaving this job much better for me, but it's nice knowing that I already have something lined up.

"Dough Re Mi," is owned by a cute older couple, Sophie and Terry. They decided that since their kids are all grown-up and living their own lives, they wanted to do something for themselves. They decided they wanted to start a business together, but the question was what would the business be? Sophie's award winning lemon squares came front and center, and soon, planning was in the work for the bakery. Terry was the one who came up with the name though.

I actually drove past it when coming back home since Jennifer's office is in the same direction as the bakery.

But all of that drifts away as the road to my apartment arrives much sooner than I expected, and I turn into the parking lot as I claim my usual spot.

Thoughts about my job bubble to the surface as I search for the courage to get out of my car and get this exit interview over with. 

Brad didn't care about me, and he just liked me for my work. I'd let him complain about his job, his wife, his golf game. But there was also no one else looking out for me as I did this for over a year. No support, no praise, nothing.

I'm leaving all that behind though. I'm making changes for myself, to better myself. This work made me persist in a cycle that was detrimental to me. No more, no more.

I'm tired of being unappreciated. I'm tired of living a life that does not make me happy. I'm tired of this pretend life that I made in order to act like a human. To be this adult that I felt I needed to be, so I could prove that I was not a mess. To prove that I could be a widow, that I could be missing Jack, but I could still live.

But I wasn't living. Everything was clockwork. Everything was pristine. Everything had its place.

Screw that! I'm going to make choices that make me happy. That makes me want to be alive. The big things, the little things, and everything in between.

Today is a big thing. Today is the day where I walk away from my old job as a transcriber. Considering all the lessons that are responsible for me leaving this job, the takeaway probably isn't that you should never be a transcriber, but I think most transcribers would agree with me. The vocal ones on the internet certainly do.

I take a deep breath as I push open the door to my car with my purse held tight against my waist. I slam the car door a bit too hard, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters more at this moment as I begin to climb the stairs into my apartment building.