can i trust myself?

hey y’all. i’ve unintentionally paid for another year of this blog, so i figured i might as well use it.

it’s funny to reflect back on months ago, when i felt so confident in my ability to remain consistent. i’ve returned to my journaling practice, informed by Julia Cameron’s “morning pages” practice.

writing is something i feel conflicted about. at times it feels like a calling, and at others it feels like simply a means to an end.

there are remarks made by writers that resonate with me, such as the ability to work out life on the page. and then there are others that don’t, like the compulsive need to write.

i’ve spent years of my life not writing, and i’m not so sure i’d consider them lacking because of this.

i’d say writing is the closest thing i have to a self-healing practice. it is a place of freedom in which i do not have to answer to anyone else for the way that i feel.

my feelings have often felt like a nuisance, an inconvenience. i was reminded of this yesterday while in deep emotional turmoil, the kind that harkens back to the past, to a time when i had less tools to cope with distressing emotions.

when i get into those places, i cry. a lot. and i question if crying is helping or hurting. i can’t tell if i’m in a trauma response loop and what i need is to get myself out of it. or if i’m engaging with a deep pain that needs to be released in order to truly move on from it.

healing often feels more like questions than answers, and i’m not so fond of this reality.

i’ve spent so much of my life in depression that i question if i can trust my sadness, if it is trying to liberate or trap me.

considering how much time i’ve spent in recent years trying to nurture self-trust, can be an especially frustrating place to be.

so i move forward, praying and trying to feel into my body, to see if the answers lie within. i’m not so sure i have any clarity as of this moment, but i have the page. and for that, i am grateful.

❤ ❤ ❤