Every day when I’m walking home from class, I think about writing in my journal. It’s not something I do very often but I know when something is really stirring within me, I want to sit and contemplate. Sometimes it’s just a major venting session… I’ve always said that if anyone read my journals, they would think that I am the most angry person around. I’m really not… I just find that articulating my feelings in writing allows me to overcome issues. As I write what is on my mind, I start seeing the issue from a more meaningful perspective. I no longer view just the facade but see multiple sides and depth to what’s on my mind. Meanwhile, when I don’t sit and analyze the topic, I lose all perspective and feel inklings of insecurity creep into my thoughts.
I haven’t made the time to write. Part of the reason is that I’ve been busy. With final projects and exams on the immediate horizon, there just seem to be other pressing issues to attack before being able to take some “me” time to write. I’ve also been ignoring the issues. This past week, I think I went out every evening. The escape from reality has been a welcome distraction, but it also puts me in denial. In the end, I know I will hit bottom far harder than I would if I just attacked the issue and moved forward. I never thought I was someone who lived in denial until a couple of years ago when I was diagnosed with IBD. It’s amazing how easy it is to act like everything is normal when there is something very wrong.
