It's been nearly two years since I last posted. Much has changed. I will have been married a year this month, I'm off all my medications, I have an incredible support system that is the strongest it's ever been. Yet much is the same. I still struggle with expressing my emotions, especially anger. I haven't finished college yet and I battle with myself over the disparity between my potential and my present. I still adore Taylor Swift, but I have turned my beliefs about religion on their head. So many uncertainties remain, but I am a better version of the woman I was two years ago and I suppose that is something to be proud of.
My decision to continue this blog has been a long process. Partly it's a way to do something with the discontentment that I feel about what I'm doing with my life. The urges to write never truly left, but they ceased to threaten to consume me if I failed to oblige them. And with that cessation, I also lost a sense of purpose. If you look back over my posts, you may notice that more often than not, I wrote during times of extreme emotion. It was the highs and the lows that filled me to overflowing and I felt that I needed to pour them out. The things that now tickle those writing compulsions are of very different motivations. Most often, I feel that I've learned something and I wish that it were written down for my children to one day consume. As if perhaps they'll be more inclined to listen to the mid-twenties version of their mom than the mom that will tell them to brush their teeth and make their beds. Maybe that's crazy; I don't even have children yet. Or maybe it's a sign that I'm growing up.
In the last couple years, I have made and solidified a handful of key friendships that mean the absolute world to me. I've come to value women with whom I can speak candidly and I can't help but think that things might have gone so much differently for me had I felt I had someone like that in my teenage years. I recognize that it's entirely possible that the depression may have never allowed me to feel safe with that kind of openness. But it's a persistent thought and one that strongly impacts the way I think about raising my children and building relationships. It is precisely the reason that I have decided to leave all my early posts intact. I'll fix the spelling errors I find, but the content will not change. I will leave my love-crazy, suicidal, diary-entries in their original form. Because I think that kind of transparency is difficult to find. It's difficult to do. I still consider myself to be intensely private, but I'm not sure that's always the best thing for me. I'm increasingly finding that I'm healthier when I allow people to see me in my selfishness, in my desperation, and in my darkness. At the same time, I recognize that the internet can be a hostile place. So for now, this blog will remain unlisted and unadvertised. That could change one day, but it is what makes me feel safe for the moment.
Until next time,
Julie
