This piece marks 2019, the year my brain injuries changed everything.

The surface holds what that year felt like. Disorientation. Loss of clarity. The slow erosion of what used to be automatic. Marks are layered, scraped back, rewritten, and doubted, mirroring the way my thinking, memory, and identity were suddenly no longer reliable.

The cross is present, but it isn’t triumphant. It doesn’t resolve anything. It simply remains. Faith didn’t disappear, but it was no longer clean or confident. It lived alongside fear, grief, and a body that no longer worked the way it once had.

MMXIX isn’t about recovery or redemption.
It’s about survival.
About staying when everything familiar falls apart.

Some years don’t get wrapped up with meaning.
They leave a mark instead.