I have dwindled my journals and notebooks down to maybe a small box worth.  I used to have so many notebooks, they were scattered through out the house, in every room, and they were filled with sporadic entries from various moment in my life.

I probably should have made some of those available to the world, but sadly, a lot of them I tossed.  However, some do still reside with me, I have recently purchased more and have decided that I will start sharing things, even the things that feel too personal.  When I decided to share my writing, I also decided to be authentic and open.  For a great part of my life I lived self-censored, because I was taught that you should always censor or filter yourself to the degree that it makes all those around you comfortable or happy.  No one ever told me what to do if I was unhappy though. No one said what to do with that uncomfortable feeling I had as I censored what I felt needed to be known or heard.  

I have little notepad type journals that can fit in a pocket or in a purse that I use to write a quick thought or two in. Recently, I opened one up to make a note in it, and I had a journal entry from July 2015.  Before I share the entry, let me tell you where I was in my life.  The date was two days before the 1-year mark that The Ex had asked for a divorce unexpectedly.  I was 11 months deep in depression and “Escapism” and I wrote this:

July 2, 2015 – As I watch the ending of “Fifty Shades of Gray”, I try to remember what the beltings felt like. I can remember the belt(s); they were wide, thick leather, typical style a Mexican dad wore in the late 70’s and early 80’s.  However, the details of the act of being belted get blurry, as does how it felt.   Did it sting?  Did it burn?  Was it an overwhelming pain?  I cannot remember.  I think the female body is designed to forget pain, how else would one want to go through child birth over and over, right?  The physical pain is gone.  What does remain is the pain caused to my soul.  The memory of feeling like no one cares or loves me, because if they did, they would stop her from beating me.  In those moments I felt alone, even God was not there for me.  I remember asking so many times “Where is your Jesus, now?” as the belt hit my legs or back, nothing stopped her not even her Jesus.  I imagine that those feeling I felt back then are still stuck in the depth of my soul. Maybe that is what holds me back.  How do I uproot those feelings, so I can remove them forever?  How do I mend, heal and grow past the damage?

It took me a long time to be able to talk about my childhood.  The first person I was ever truly open about it was The Ex, he used to be my best friend and I felt safe with him, so I would allow myself to visit the past as I shared it with him.  The second person I opened up to was my therapist, and that is when the healing began.  I had regular weekly therapy sessions for 8 years.  About a year after the divorce, I stopped going and instead used my journals and writing to do self-analysis and self-therapy.  One of my therapists told me I was one of the easiest clients they had, because my commitment to healing and growing combined with my intelligence allowed me to come up with the correct conclusion and solution on my own most of the time.  I wonder at times how much more healing I have to do, and I can never come up with a way to measure the past pain, less surmise how much more I have to work through. 

Sometimes when I come across a journal entry where I am unfiltered, I wonder who I was writing for.  The more I think about it, I do not think I was writing for anyone, I was just having an open honest moment of truth with myself, and with you now.  I read that the things that make you nervous or anxious to share are the ones most worth sharing.  I hope they were right. 

Knowing only love, healing and happiness for all.

-Laura