The Girl Without A Face

I was thinking this morning how interesting it is that this is where I express myself. This little corner of the internet. I can’t clearly perceive myself, but I know there are many ups and downs. These are glimpses into the deepest recesses of my mind. The thoughts I won’t say out loud. The thoughts I don’t think anyone cares about. The things I wish I could say to a trusted confidante or a family member if I thought I would receive the response I needed from the talk.

But I’ve learned over the years that this is not the way I know how to cope. I held it inside for a long time, my mind took the burden on alone. Everyone grieves differently, everyone needs something unique to process their emotions. This isn’t necessarily something we’re told but I know about the five step grieving process. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. They don’t necessarily go in order. There doesn’t have to be a death to feel this way either. But this isn’t the way we’re taught, just like how we assume you need to go to war in order to have PTSD. That invalidates the experience of every other survivor living with nightmares that won’t go away.

So I’ve learned that I need to write if something is bothering me. Sometimes I avoid it, sometimes I don’t want to feel it all the way. Sometimes my writing is light-hearted. Sometimes it really does take the pain away. I’m able to go somewhere, dig out the words in my brain. When they display themselves on the page suddenly I make more sense to me. I can understand my layers, I can process through the knots. I can put out my mess anonymously then to my surprise get encouragement in the process.

I’ve been struggling underneath my smile and that is what you are seeing. Here, I can remove my mask. I can breathe out the reality of what I’m really feeling. For just a few minutes as I’m writing I feel like I can be honest with the deep pain inside. This allows me to continue on, somehow lighter, in my day to day life.