and I will keep it as a treasure
While I was killing time yesterday I opened the pages of one of my old journals (for the record, #16, spring 2003). For a moment I suspended my emotionally obliterating routine and peered back in time.
Some of what was in there I'd forgotten about: weekend classes (which I've all but abandoned, no matter that I'm within one class of getting my degree), the self-destructive coworker who had latched on to me (sucking me dry), and rounds and rounds of medical appointments. There was also a great deal in there that I now rely on but couldn't conceive of then, yoga as the prime example.
It also struck me that I was much more able to emotionally express myself then, on those graph-lined pages if nowhere else. I now go out of my way to avoid feelings, and thus to have no worries about what to do with those "needless" emotions. If I don't write, then I don't have to feel or think about what's going on.
Yet even as I write the previous paragraph, I can not see a way of edging back towards someone who is more emotionally open, whether with graph-lined pages, others, or most importantly, myself. In so many ways, that lack of emotional availability is the best proof that I am indeed on the way down, or at the very least, stuck in a rut.
Some of what was in there I'd forgotten about: weekend classes (which I've all but abandoned, no matter that I'm within one class of getting my degree), the self-destructive coworker who had latched on to me (sucking me dry), and rounds and rounds of medical appointments. There was also a great deal in there that I now rely on but couldn't conceive of then, yoga as the prime example.
It also struck me that I was much more able to emotionally express myself then, on those graph-lined pages if nowhere else. I now go out of my way to avoid feelings, and thus to have no worries about what to do with those "needless" emotions. If I don't write, then I don't have to feel or think about what's going on.
Yet even as I write the previous paragraph, I can not see a way of edging back towards someone who is more emotionally open, whether with graph-lined pages, others, or most importantly, myself. In so many ways, that lack of emotional availability is the best proof that I am indeed on the way down, or at the very least, stuck in a rut.