All of a sudden, at one point, I began to practice my long-neglected violin. I would start when I came home at night and practice for hours until 2 or 3 am.

It was my escape, my outlet.

I wasn’t in the regular Sabbath orchestra, but I had been allowed to play during the feasts year after year since I moved to New Jersey. I would normally practice right before the feasts and not touch the instrument in between.

This time, though, I wanted to improve my skills, not just maintain them.

Having violin goals gave me a purpose in life when everything felt dark.

I was in pain and I felt like I was able to cry through my instrument when I wasn’t allowed to actually cry. After all, I was so blessed; what was there to cry about?

Dr. Laura E. Anderson writes in her book, When Religion Hurts You, that when a person is unable to fight or flee a threatening situation, their parasympathetic nervous system allows them to dissociate.

Playing my violin for hours was my way of dissociating.

Yet I also felt guilt since I wasn’t in the orchestra and I was playing the violin because I liked it. I was afraid that my violin had become my idol.