when you are feeling the loss of someone so strongly....every song is about them. its crazy to me how i can find or feel my love or my pain in every single song i hear. i love music for the way it moves me, and it truly DOES move me. my spirits can be raised if the music is upbeat, and my heart can so easily be taken to sad places if the music takes me there. i love "words". i love "expression". certain lyrics in certain songs (ALOT of certain songs), truly take me places when they touch on something i feel. i've written poetry for years, and tho most of my poetry is sad or angry, it's been a way of attempting to convey so much felt, but not expressed. i always think that someday i'll attempt to publish my poems, but someday....hasn't come yet. but i can come across them, read one or two, and i'm immediately transported to wherever i was in the moment that i wrote the poem. that's the expression i love so much...the use of words to catch something that can really not be caught properly, because it's a feeling, and feelings are never fully conveyed with words. thats never kept me from trying tho. i have journaled for years, since i was a teenager. always to try to purge myself of something that is inside me that others don't understand. while reading back in any of these things, i can remember the way i felt when i wrote them, but i notice that i never quite CATCH THE FEELING, in all the words i spill on pages. yet still....i am always trying, because i am always FEELING.
writing has been an outlet that i think at times in my life has saved me. i was not allowed to express feelings that were sad or weak or angry or difficult in any way, when i was growing up. my mom was a strong woman, who'd had to get thru alot of hard things in her life, and didn't beleive in "sitting in your feelings" to let them be felt. nope....i was told things like, "get over it", "be tough", "don't tell people things....it's not of their business....keep it to yourself", etc...i learned early on, that the way to go was to sweep things under rugs that were then walked on until whatever was under them was squashed. buried. i learned the rules, and outwardly, i kept to them. if i was scared or sad or upset...i kept it to myself. (course it wasn't until i began therapy a few years ago, that i learned the damage this caused for myself in so many ways). but the fact that i did not outwardly show how i felt, never stopped whatever i felt. i have literally always felt like a tangle of emotions that keep getting knotted, rather than untangled and sorted (felt). so, journaling became my outlet for so many of them. the pages of my journals were my best friend. i could say ANYTHING, without being judged, without being told that my feelings were wrong in some way. my journals have listened to me, and accepted me for all the mess that i am. and often times, when i'm really distraught, i can find bits of resolve as the words spill onto the pages. sometimes getting things out of you, and looking at them....helps you see them more clearly, than when they are inside swirling madly, like tornados.
i often wonder what will happen, when i die....and some of the journals are found by my family. there is more truth in those journals, than i've ever expressed to any of the people i love. partly because that preconditioning to keep things in, is just so hard to break, but also because they all know me as the one in control all the time...the one who keeps all the balls in the air and keeps our family events and gatherings flowing. i'm the one who gave my all....to give them (my children) their best selves, because i knew what not having my own self had done to me over the years, and i didn't want my kids to feel like i do now....in therapy for years, trying to unravel years of things kept in....including myself. alot of my therapy is in those journals in the last 8 years....more things i never shared with my family.
i love my family....i don't want it to seem that i don't. but...when i hurt, or struggle, it makes them very UNcomfortable. their discomfort is hard to deal with when it comes to me. the way i was looked at when i was in the worst of the depression. the way i knew they were all, just "waiting" for me to get better, and be how i'd always been for and to them. it's hard to explain, without making them seem UN feeling. it's not that. it's just that, when my depression hit, i became someone they'd never seen. someone who suddenly couldn't hold it all together like they'd always known me to do. someone who cried alot...without being able to explain why. it scared them...understandably so. so, the less i told them about how BROKEN i was, the easier it was for them to handle...and therefore easier for me too, to not see their discomfort, their impatience at how long it took me to pull myself together. the commercials on tv, about depression, where people talk about wearing a mask....that was/is me. the me they see....is not the me behind the mask. that's not to say that they don't know any of the real me...cause of course, in LOVE you are real. that cannot be faked. so, in loving them, i've been my most authentic. it's complicated to explain the two me's that i feel i am, and i am digressing.....as i way too often do....
WORDS. whether in song lyrics, poetry (mine or others), the pages of my journals, or even in the tellings of things i'm working on in two different books i'm writing....WORDS, have been my way of EXPRESSING the me behind the mask, and i feel like if i didn't use words in any way that i can find to express myself, that i'd maybe not even be here today. the outlet of getting my inner self out on the pages, has been my greatest outlet from MYSELF. once i began therapy, i had a PERSON, to tell all my truths to, and that's been amazing and frightening at times. but until i had her (dr. M), i'd never spoken so much of my FEELINGS, and it's not been easy at all to learn. BUT....
after these past 8 years of therapy with dr. M, i have come to see that i need to be able to be more authentically myself. my truths in my journals, or poems, or in therapy sessions, SHOULD be able to be shared with others too, even tho it's ingrained in me NOT to share them. i just feel like it's time to break myself open, and stop living behind that mask. it's a scary feeling....mind numbing scary for me. but it's how this self discovery journey began. years of therapy, have helped me to find peace with certain things that i'd not been able to get past in my life. it's uncovered things that i'd blocked away and buried, but were still harming me, even if i couldn't remember them. in the uncoverings, i've been able to face those things, and make whatever peace with them that i could, so that i could put down some of the weights that i've always carried, even without knowing i was doing so. therapy has been a gift to me, even when it was hell, cause you have to be split wide open and bare yourself, in order for it to benefit you. painful sessions, where i felt inside-out, exposed and raw and bleeding, finding wounds that needed healing so that i could begin repairing myself. and in all these years of therapy, i've come to see how much i don't exisit in my own life, and how much i truly want to. how i want to be accepted for all the things about me that i hide away, because i was taught that was the right way to be.
when dr. M gave me the self discovery journal, i felt an excited "hope" that i don't think i've ever felt. i mean....to find MYSELF, after feeling so lost for so long, that maybe i'm not entirely "findable"? the idea....that i mite be able to do it, and figure out who i should have been, mite have been, if i hadn't stuffed so much of myself away....excites me. and the fact that dr. M knows me and my love of WORDS, so well, that she knew this self discovery journal would be the THING to "work" for me, because of the journaling aspects of it, using my love of WORDS....excites me even more. i feel like i'm literally "embarking"....on a journey. corny? maybe, but if each of these exercises brings me closer to what i'm hoping to find, then the words i've always used to convey things i've held inside me like a prison....will become the words to now free me. i want to feel free....i'm so tired of feeling pent up.
the self discovery journal is meant to be a 52 week journey, with each exercise being done and reflected on for a week, to absorb, take in, learn, and discuss with dr. M, at my weekly appointments. a year seems like an awfully long time to focus on unraveling myself, but in truth, the unraveling began with my depression, and entering therapy....so it's been a slow process, with lots of halting, for 9ish years now. imagine...at the end of the year of exercises, if i could get myself to a place of outward authenticity, to be able to feel actual contentment and happiness with myself. imagine the decisions i'll be capable of making to change my life in positive ways, and finally not exist in this frozen limbo that has been my life.
i get excited at these thoughts. not much gives me feelings of excitement. i want to rush the exercises and get thru the journey faster, but dr. M says not to do that. the things i'm feeling in the exercises need to be FELT. the whole point of this is to stop stuffing what i feel, and let myself feel things, understand them, turn them around, decide what's worth keeping and what needs to be done away with, as i begin this rebuild. i have CHOICES....this is creating, as much as it's finding.
i didn't expect this entry to go where it went. but...in a way that i rather LIKE, i've just sort of given tribute to something that means so much to me....WORDS. my friends while hiding in dark places....and my way to finding my own light, if i just "let them". i so want to exist outside myself and BE my words.
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