When tragedy strikes, a person can find themselves at the bottom of a dark abyss without knowing how they arrived. The realization of how far they've fallen arrives with terror--terror that grips with strangling tentacles.
I've been there. It's a hopeless place, dank and confining, like the dungeons where many perished long ago. Chains shackled me to a life of stifled hope.
Yet, I survived. Little by little, one word at a time. Each word became a cathartic stepping stone creating a handhold with which to climb out of the abyss.
The sword which drove me to despair became obsolete as the words began to flow. Then one day, I stood at the top of the abyss. I never looked back, for to do so would be foolish. Instead, my experiences became the fodder for stories.
I am a survivor. I am a writer.