Time flies

Wow. My last post (which I just now posted and didn't know I had drafted it) was in 2016!

I'd totally forgotten about this blog until my Pilates instructor mentioned if I had one.  So I decided to log in and 'tickle the ebonies'.

For me, writing (or in this case typing) is cathartic and helps me express my thoughts and feeling much better than speaking. I've always had a hard time expressing myself verbally.. I can't seem to get all the words out of my mouth from my head. It makes sense to me, but as soon as I speak, it's all a foreign jumble.

So I've been going through a rough time in my life. It's where you can't do or say anything to make the situation better. It is out of my control and it scares me. A lot. It takes very little to make me happy. Unfortunately that is true of the opposite; very little makes me upset. When I lost my father at 5 years old, the perpetual question in my head was Why? Why me? Why did it have to happen to me?
And still I ask God.. why? If my life started out with such heartache, shouldn't it be smoother now?

I don't have a clear cut answer. Usually when I write blog posts, I have a clean ending; a nice wrap up or encouraging statement. I have none. This sucks. This situation really sucks.
But I know I have to get through it. I have to keep fighting. Because all the trials I went through since I was 5 years old have made me stronger. Sadder maybe, and more lonely. But undeniably stronger.

What if:
If I could talk to my childhood self now, what would I say?

I would say.. I know it hurts. It's ok to cry. You don't have to hide your tears before you sleep. Being strong doesn't mean you are brittle. Let people love and help you.

My hurt was never acknowledged and I always thought I had to hide all my emotions. I still do sometimes. I realize now that whether you are 5 or 35 (in my case, 36), you'll always have something to work on. Perhaps things will get better.

I'm glad I found my way back to blogging. I might start a new layout soon.. summer?