From the Big Box of my Life. part 4. My first journal entry.

My marriage was raw, exposed and vulnerable to failure in 2009 due to an affair, we started marriage counseling immediately.  I was so angry and beside myself with grief.  I gave my anger a name; I called it "My Dragon".  And boy, what a dragon it was.  I never even knew I was capable of being and feeling like I did.  My counselor had his work cut out for him.  It took me almost a year to feel like my anger was manageable.  One of the biggest tools that my therapist instilled in me was writing.  I wrote so much and so often.  I'd write and write and cry and cry.  There would be pages and pages of feelings and shit written out on anything from how I felt to revengeful thoughts to how sad I felt to whatever the day brought to me.

The other day I came across my first real journal entry that was more from a place of feeling and being than a place from fear and anger.  I've only shared it with Andy and one other friend.  I hope that when you are reading it and have ever felt any of these thoughts that I can offer you hope that you will get back off your knees and start smiling again.  It is a hard journey to work on yourself.  I picked myself up and opened up my heart and kept on loving.  You have to love yourself first and then you really can create a wonderful and loving marriage.  We are living proof.  I sometimes wish that I never had to go through all that to learn but I would never want to be so blind like I was before. I see and I love now more than I ever could have before.

My First Journal Entry

2009

Why does the sky always seem so gray?  The tick of the clock goes so slow.  My insides feel empty and vacant.  The river moves fast but I am a sinking rock looking up as the water rushes me by.  The sun looks so far away and distorted by the flow.  I am all alone under water in this limbo grave.  Not yet buried but pushed under by a transparent shield.  Every now and then I am pushed up and get a breath of the fresh air only to be toppled over again to sink to the bottom.  If only rocks didn't sink if only I could be a flower that floats on top and washes to shore to be picked up and admired.  No one wants a dull, sunken, old rock.  No one wants a rock.

Maybe I could turn into a fish and swim away.  Maybe I could be the wind.  Maybe I could be the sun.  What does a rock feel like?  When did I become a rock?

I remember being the sun.

I felt warm and bright and hopeful.  I felt dependable coming up and setting each day.  I thought I provided so much to everyone - such radiance.

But now I am just a rock watching as it all goes by.  Look at me down on the bottom of the river.  Please pick me UP!  Look at the time - where did it go?  How long have I been here?  What did it feel like when I was the sun?

I do remember!  I felt warm, hot, glowing, wonderful.  I felt loved, happy, adored.  I felt alive.  Can a rock still feel like this?  Or will I just be an impostor?  What will happen when the winter comes and freezes over the river?  I hope that it brings peace.  I hope I can still hear the birds sing and see the sun.  

How will I turn back into the sun up above?  Who will rescue me?  Who put me in this river, who turned me into a rock?  What kind of magic can do that?  

Maybe I am the sorcerer - YES, I am the SUN.

*I encourage you all to write.  Write. Write. Write.  Give your soul a voice and let the healing begin.  Love to you all.