December 2006

When I was around the age of 25 or 26, I began to realize that happiness came from sorrow. They are at opposite sides of the spectrum yet the happier someone appeared to be, the more sadness it seemed was in their hearts. Realizing this and looking within, it began to free me from my binds that was used as a mechanism to defend myself from having people see the real me. It liberated me, knowing that it was okay to have a bad day, not to have to see the good in everything. And so the search began trying to understand what happiness truly is, what it means and how to realize it.

The shadow self started to overtake what I had perceived myself to be up until then. Was it that or was it wisdom? Life is so interesting and so complicated and so beautiful and so boring.

I am reading a quote right now that says “Enthusiasm conquers the impossible.” It’s on my computer so I can remember that part of myself that I have forgotten; to have a blind kind of faith. To the outer world I have it but on the inside it has diminished. The harshness of reality has caught up to what I was running from. From this comes knowledge, which I am grateful for.

Writing this down is a release. I love it for this reason alone. The creative expression is a release; photography, music, writing…all these things that come up from the depth of inside. Everyone should have some kind of release so it doesn’t burden the mind and put strain on it. Maybe this is why our society is so stressed out. It’s a constant intake of information.

Tragedy is a part of life. I have lived through a lot of tragedy myself. Tragedy comes in many shapes and forms. For me the biggest tragedy is knowing that my mom took her own life when I was 2 years old, and the many consequences that followed years later. I don’t think anyone can truly understand suicide because it is the lasting repercussions that have a rippling effect that are felt the most. The inner turmoil that never gets resolved. To try to wrap one’s head around it only leads to more circles. The blame, the remorse and the haunting sadness that forever lingers on.

I have had to fill in the gaping blanks to understand why my mom, as happy as she seemed in her pictures and as beautiful of a person she was, would leave her children, if after all love is the most innate feeling a mother can have. To understand depression for me is to find the answers in books. To understand her family life and upbringing is to try to open a door that remains locked and bolted.

Love is strong, but what is love really? For myself, love has become a memory.

One big realization I have discovered in the past few months is my fear to love. I can analyze why relationships don’t work on the outside, but to understand my biggest fear is letting my shield down and allowing myself to be vulnerable enough to lean on someone. Right, right this is what we always hear…and it makes me think blah, blah, blah. But this time it hit home and I see it. I see that my mom left me when I was young, and my dad left me when I was a teenager, and so the obvious answer is: I am so afraid to put my love into someone and give it my all with the unconditional kind of love my heart yearns for because of the deep rooted fear that is instilled in my mind.

The analytical quest to try to comprehend where I stand in my life today…