As I look back at my previous posts over the past several years, I realize the pain that I was in. I had lost myself and sight of who I know I was envisioning myself to be. Over the past 4.5 years, I have been trying to rebuild myself by focusing on the type of person I am. My previous relationships tore me apart so much that I lost focus of who I am and the loving person I am to myself and everyone else. I was so focused on providing the perceived “love” that I thought I had been giving out that I let go of things that made me, me. I gave up writing. I burned that book that I had wrote back in freshman year of high school. Instead, I have been falling back on my English (and I’m born here in the USA). I dropped my potential side writing career that I longed to have for long for which I have kept in the dark due to my fear of my English not improving. I gave up so much of me to fulfill what I thought was going to be the rest of my life. It ended up giving me so much pain. I have came a long way from who that girl was — so broken and sheltered.
Here I am 4.5 years later from that girl and I’m pretty sure I’m proud of myself for finding that girl once again. She was buried for so long and I never thought that I’d be able to find her again. I’m married to the man that brings the best out of me and I could never express how grateful I am for him everyday. I don’t think he realizes how close I ended up giving up on everything. He is my savior, and little does he know about it. (This is for another time.) I could only carry out the so-called “happiness”, at that point in time for so long before giving up. In writing about it, I realize how emotional it still makes me feel. Knowing that I had almost let myself give in again. It disappoints me. It frightens me. When you think that you can get all of those threatening voices in your mind, and you end up guessing wrong. Which brings me to my next thought.
I came back after all this time because I realized that I need this outlet again. Writing had saved my life before. I believe that it will always save me in the end. Maybe it had to do with how I grew up, but we’re not expressive towards how we feel. The only expression that is expressed and interpreted clearly is pain and anger — must be an Asian thing. I have a lot of pent up emotions that have to do with how I handle it. I’m so use to keeping things bottled up because of how I was raised and my abusive relationship. The words “therapists” scare me. It’s kind of ridiculous how I think that a therapist is invasive but putting it out on a blog to the cyber world is ok. I feel like I can express everything in writing easier and it makes me feel better to fully communicate the thoughts swarming my mind rather than keeping it pent up. Therefore I am returning to my little cyber world where I can freely express myself and not feel judge because I can decipher my thoughts more clearly when writing it out.
Until the next time… Won’t be too long this time.