A little over a year ago, I wrote a short post about Zombie Awareness Month and the dangers of letting oneself be slowly consumed. I wrote it at a time when I felt my fears closing in on me, intent on pulling me apart piece by piece. Quelle dramatique I know, but I’ve found a useful way to help me understand and process the challenges of this past year is to relate them to a zombie invasion scenario.
This guy knows what I’m talking about. (Click here for source)
Like most tales of undead onslaught, things got significantly worse before they got better. But most zombie stories also have their survivours, and sometimes those survivours get a chance to repair their damaged world.
The best stories are the ones that end with hope, no matter how grisly matters get before the darkness starts to lift. I’m focused on savouring post-apocalyptic life right now, building a home, cherishing my small corner of the planet and loving the people in it.
“It’s not about surviving. It should be about love. When you know love… that’s what makes this life worth it. When you live with it everyday. Wake up with it, hold on to it during the thunder and after a nightmare. When love is your refuge from the death that surrounds us all and when it fills you so tight that you can’t express it.”
– Carrie Ryan, The Forest of Hands and Teeth