Resurrected Journal Entry #1

Disclaimer: This is an exact translation of a written journal entry I recently located and found essential to my recovery. I didn't keep any consistency in my journal activities over the years. When I opened and read these few entries I really wish I had. Being that it is an exact transfer for authenticity reasons, please excuse the grammar issues. 


01/09/13

So here I am.....turning 28 shortly and still searching for myself. For answers, for what I imagine normal is supposed to be. Does this happen for everyone? I can't imagine that it does, at least I hope not. Its a terrible feeling and thought process to have and cycle though over and over again. Some days I feel indefinitely lost, just trying to direct myself forward. Other times I'm driving a race car in life. Speeding through and missing it all. Am I lost? Did i ever have a "me" to lost? I guess that's why I'm supposed to journal....could I really find myself in these pages?

I'm suppose looking back in time to childhood, (which feels so far beyond my reach I must add) I never felt lost, alone would be a better term. Forever I hear myself reassuring my sisters that Mom wasn't always that way. Before her accident she was a good personal and Mother I say. Then I go on to try to explain to them, or whoever I'm talking to that she was just gone a lot. We had chores but they made us responsible. She only spanked me once but I deserved it. I was really making excuses, (well still am) for her, My Mother. I haven't a clue why! Why don't I hate her? I'm not even mad at her nor do I blame her for anything. Strange. Anyway... alone. I felt alone. I didn't see being alone and feeling alone as a negative. I just knew alone meant responsibility. I was in charge. I handled alone well. I learned to feed myself, to care for myself, and when my sisters came I learned to care for them and quickly.

I'm still not sure how this will help me. My rambling memories wont direct me. I don't need to find sympathy. I don't want to be told I've come a long way, or should be proud of. Of what? Of living? Making Mistakes? Hurting people? Lying or stealing. I'm not proud of who I am. I am a sick, mean person.

There will be a photo of the actual journal entry posted to correlate...coming soon. If you're reading this please let me know. Tell me I'm not alone. I'm here to tell you you're not alone. Is anyone out there?