2012 was a turbulent year for me, and has been since the beginning of August when my wife left me. So when my personal sculptor arrives, his instructions will be to capture the anguish which crushed me when she walked out the door and shattered my heart into thousands of pieces the size of a granule of sand.
This statue will be significant to me because it was a defining moment in my life. I realized who I was. I realized that what my wife had been telling me was true. I realized that I took her for granted. I realized that I had been treating her like shit.
This realization, along with being alone and broken-hearted, sent me plummeting straight towards rock bottom. And I hit it hard. I was a disaster. I couldn’t concentrate at work. I was barely able to keep my composure when the kids were around. When they weren’t around I was drowning my sorrows in alcohol. I lost all desire to do anything. I quit reading. I quit writing. I quit playing video games. I quit doing everything that I enjoyed. I couldn’t eat. I lost over 30 pounds in about a month’s time. I was a complete clusterfuck.
I was able to pull myself together and get myself to a doctor who prescribed me some medication, and I eventually evened out. I started eating again. I was able to function again.
This moment needs to be memorialized, because it’s also the moment I realized that I didn’t like who I was. I didn’t like how I treated my wife or my children. It was at that moment that I resolved to become a better person, a nicer person, so that I could keep those I love in my life and so that those people wouldn’t resent me. Or even hate me. I needed to become a person that I could be proud of. That my mother could be proud of. That my children would be proud of.
The statue will depict me fallen to my knees, but looking up with a hopeful look upon my face and eyes filled with resolve.