Journaling Opened My Wounds

Journaling opened up wounds. Each time I journaled, tears flowed as if I were caught in a torrential downpour. It didn’t matter to me. I let them flow with each word I wrote. Here is an excerpt from my first journal on how I felt when Babe died.

“Babe’s death knocked me down to the depths of new sorrow. Like a badly beaten boxer, I am in a semi-conscious state trying to grab hold of my opponent before he pummels me with both fists and sends me to the canvas hoping I’ll stay down. I wait for my mind to clear. I wait to regain my strength to continue the fight against grief. In my dazed and befuddled state, I see Babe’s presence and touch everywhere. She was my life, she is my life, and her absence is devastating. My knees wobble and my legs feel like overcooked spaghetti. I struggle to keep going, holding on to the ropes to prevent me from falling again to the canvas as grief continues to deliver hit after hit to my heart.”

Ordering information for the paperback or ebook version of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again may be found at

Excerpt From: Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again by Ray Calabrese. This material is protected by copyright

Author: Ray Calabrese

I am an optimistic, can do, and never quit guy. The spirit of hope indelibly marks my DNA. My research at The Ohio State University helped people discover the best in themselves and change their personal lives, public organizations, and whole communities. I bring the same spirit and enthusiasm to my blog to help those who grieve who find themselves suddenly alone, navigate their grieving. Join my more than 24,300Twitter (@alwaysgoodstuff). I promise my tweets are always good stuff. Please feel free to email me at

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