I've resisted the idea of journaling for quite awhile now. I've resisted the advice of two therapists and many self-help books, all of which have urged me to journal. However,the idea of journaling hasalways been intimidating to me. There's something so permanent about puttingmy thoughts down on paper. Laying everything out in black and white for examination. It seems so much safer,to keep the thoughts swimming through my brain. I suppose, it saves me from having toaccept the truths about my life that I'd much rather ignore.
Like everyone, there are things about myself that make me unhappy. I suppose I've been operatingby the saying "ignorance is bliss"...but it isn't. It isn't blissful, because I'm not truly ignorant of my own faults and shortcomings. They are always there...just inside my peripheral vision...nagging me...eating away at the world that I try to create for myself, within myself.
This isn't easy for me. The process of unravelingmy life to examine who I am and how I became this person. But it is a necessary process for me at this point, because I'm not happy with this person. I feeldiscontent. I'm uneasy. Uncomfortable. Unsatisfied.
I think all of these feelings are necessary to precipitate change, so instead of trying to bury them deep, deep inside of me, as I have in the past, I'm going to try to let them surface. Explore them. Follow them to their core. I imagine the process to be similar to peeling an onion; not only in the fact that there will be many layers to peel away, but that the process will likely bring tears.
I know that I have buried much sadness inside my body. I think there are many reasons for the sadness. Many of those reasons have been too painful for me to acknowledge or cope with in a healthy way.
I sometimes feel the sadness start to well up inside of me. At first the feeling is small and begins deep within my chest, but grows with a force that causes me to panic. I feel that I will get lost in the sadness if I allow it to fully surface...that I will drowned in it. So, I use all of my strength to push it back down and lock it away, not sure of where it dwells in the deep, dark crevasses ofmy body,when it lays dormant, waiting for its next opportunity to charge the gates that I have erected to protect myself. But it senses my weakness...my exhaustion...my confusion.
I don't want to spend my life fighting against the sadness, but I'm unsure of how to let it flow through me without destroying me. Can I experience the sadness in a way that will allow me to come out the other side whole? Can I not only survive the experience, but use it to gain strength?
These are questions to which I have no answers. But, I will find them...in time. This will serve as my reminder when I feel that I have made no progress. I will come back to this, my first journal entry, to retrace my steps and find my path again.
Add comment
