Journal Share, Part II

Sometimes looking back is just as hard as looking forward.

January 2009
Tell your story. Three words that haunt me almost as much as the story itself. Why should telling someone be so frigthening? There is a certain notion that if I don't acknowledge it, then I can pretend (at least around others) that it didn't happen. If only it were that simple. I have two main fears about telling my story. One: The actual speaking part. Saying out loud everything that I remember about that morning. The things I would have to describe and put words to. In my head they are memories; no dialogue needed. The actions speak what the words don't. Two: The worry that once they know they won't be able to see me as anyone else. All they will remember is this story. The idea of having other people know, think about, and dissect my own personal hell scares me. I'm afraid that people won't look at me the same. I'll forever be remembered for that story and those actions.

1 comments:

imaginenamaste said...
June 1, 2009 at 11:11 PM

I have the exact same feelings about a situation that happened to me many, many years ago. My therapists wants me to tell her the whole story--but telling it makes it very real and I'm very much more than that.

sending you virtual hugs