Write down what you ARE feeling!
Then write down what you WANT to feel................. Do they match up?
An excerpt from my book (in progress)...
As I begin to wake from almost a decade of dreams spiralling out of control into my rear viewed reality I realize there is no turning back, no re-does, no real second chances. You never get to erase your past or the metaphorical scars it leaves on you that might as well be deep, profound gashes along the side of your cheek. Cuts that still seem to throb when the weather changes or someone finally sees you at a weak moment; a rare moment, where the past takes over and weather relevant to your current situation or not you take down the perfect mask to unveil the real you, the scared and broken you. It’s heartbreaking when everything everyone has been telling you for years hits you like a ton of bricks and you begin thinking, “If I had of just heeded the educated, experienced warnings of my piers and elders life could have been so different; so much easier.”
We don’t though; listen to our elders, or even let it begin to sink in and become some of our forethought. Instead I am left with afterthought; hindsight as everyone calls it, an aftermath from the outrageous tsunami that I allowed to become my existence. I believed I was swimming in an ocean that all were use to, that all swam in and knew well. Sure; I would grow tired or weary at times, but I would stop and take a breath and keep on swimming, so I thought. To all outsiders it was clear that I was drowning and even though they could see my head peak above water at times it wouldn’t be long before I would slip back under for awhile before finally emerging completely. Now as I wash up on shore to work towards stabling my feet I feel shame, embarrassment and extremely exposed that so many witnessed me lose control of my life when I was certain I had been in charge of my destiny the entire time. Only now can I see the truth of it all. The overwhelming notion that I have washed back up on shore battered, bruised and naked for all to see sickens me as heat flashes across my face when only a small fraction of the poor choices I made enter my conscience mind.
With the periodic rocking I still experience much like once exiting a boat and having to adjust back to land; I am ashamed and saddened for the path I have journeyed. Why didn’t I take pride in myself? Why didn’t I love myself or those around me enough to make the changes I needed to? How could I have allowed myself and another to damage my spirit so badly? How come I didn’t realize I was in such a mess? How will I recover now that my true reality has set in? Will I like who I find through my process? Am I aggressive by nature or has that been a defence tactic used to make sure that every ounce of what I could possibly have control of; I did, so to ensure that disappointment would longer enter my life? Am I kind, thoughtful and giving like so many have viewed me or simply just desperate for someone to think kindly of me and be blinded to the scars of my unsightly choices? Life has to start at some point; real life, no matter how scary the path. Now at twenty six I begin to walk mine; or in this case, crawl.
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