So, today I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I was cleaning and afterwards decided I needed a break. I rummaged around and found old journals from when I was in high school. For most of my life I have been writing at all times, when it is convenient and when it is not, when I feel like it and when I am just screaming at my hands and brain to just give me something, anything to write. I sometimes wonder if I came out of the womb with a pad of paper and a pen, having used my nine months growing also writing of my experiences. Either way, God gave me an innate desire to continuously write everything I could down.
As far as journaling goes, I’m actually kind of awful at it. I write, in all places. I have numerous documents on my computer, blog entries here, and probably 10 notebooks with different time-lines. This does not include the pieces of paper I find shoved in places with idea on them. But I’m really bad at continuously writing so I can keep up with more life events. I guess my life dream has been to leave a legacy on paper for others to read. It isn’t always pretty, but it shows my struggles internally through every major event, and through a lot of changes.
Looking back on my writing I was flooded with memories of my childhood. I have done a lot to find peace in my circumstances growing up. I don’t know if I will ever be ready to completely talk about that. I just don’t feel comfortable because I know my parents had good intentions, that they never stopped loving me, that they did their best. But holy hell sometimes I struggle with that. I am so blessed that now I can happily say my parents and I are working on a complete and peaceful relationship, one step at a time. It has been wonderful.
I can’t help but see how much time has allowed me the opportunity to grow. Mostly, I remember feeling extremely lonely all the way up until I graduated high school. It felt like no one wanted to understand who I was on the inside. Or if they did want to, they couldn’t. I was depressed. I laughed a lot, but inside was a tumultuous mess. I was constantly battling my needs with my desire to be liked and craved. The only thing steady about this whole time, was that for the most part I never walked away completely from my faith. I struggled, maybe even became angry at God a little. But I knew he loved me, that he had a hand of protection over me, and that some day every thing would work out.
Healing has been a scary process. But I’m learning to let go, of a lot of things. Those things are allowed to be memories, but hanging on to the hurt only allows them to fester. Pain is not an easy thing to get over. It takes time. And sometimes when we think we are almost healed a scar is revisited and sometimes even re-injured and we must hang on tight.
I might be able to open up more about this in the future. Right now everything is just a jumbled mess. I’m so very proud of where I am. Blessed to know healing has come. God has been faithful in his promises. And I hold tight to the knowledge that I have learned from my past, and will continue to grow as time goes on. I refuse to be stagnant.