Writing Again
In 1995 I moved from Florida to Colorado. On the way I started a journal. Here is the first entry:
Well, yesterday was the beginning. It was an awful day. I drove and drove. But, the book by Pat Conroy was wonderful. It was great having a book to listen to. By the time I stopped I was over tired so I did not sleep.
Today I decided to write again. Since that first entry I have done quite a bit. I made it to Colorado. The first six months there were awful except for my meeting Mark on the computer. The very first time I talked to him I was very impressed. He is quite intelligent but he is also quite real. That was the first thing that really struck me. How real he was. His sister died when he was twelve and she was eleven. I think that tragedy had an impact that made him break through a lot of the facade that most people build from childhood. I think that we build this facade to help us feel safe. The problem is it that it also keeps us hidden.
I think that each person has opportunities to break out of the facade, but it is up to us as to whether or not we do. I know that I always thought I was a bad person for being fat. I know now that am who I am for a reason and that it is up to be to decide who and what I am. No one else knows what is right for me. My biggest fear now is that I don’t really care anymore. Sometimes I just feel empty. I feel as thought my purpose here has been fulfilled and that it is alright if I just end it.
I love my life and I enjoy the freedom. Is that what I am really afraid of? Freedom means so much to me and yet I am afraid of it. For instance I want to sew and yet I do not. Is that because I am afraid to do what I really want? Why would I be afraid? What comes up is that it will be wrong or bad. I do not want to reveal my true self because I am so afraid to be wrong. I guess I am too judgmental of me. The only one who gets to decide it this is wrong is me.