It’s hard for me to read my own words. I am not a big sharer of feelings, so if I am open about things it’s because it’s very important to me. Sharing and being vulnerable is a great thing but it also has opened me up to a lot of pain, even emptiness. I think of deleting this page every day, as if I can backspace feelings.
Sometimes writing the words feel cathartic and freeing; then, it feels like a eulogy for my heart. On a good day, I can see that I’ve continued to be resilient and loving and strong, no matter how long it took me to come back to myself. On a bad day, it sounds like self-pity and despair. I guess some days it’s all of those things wrapped up in one…the good, the bad, and the ugly truths we hide to save face.
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