This blog has gained a little bit of dust over the past 4 years. Looking back at what is written before this, I'm haunted. I was in a very dark place in 2009/2010. It's sad to think about because I was so young, and nobody that young should be that sad. But I was young, and sad, and alone. Other than the darkness I feel when reading those entries, I also feel somewhat inspired. I've come a long way from then, and I'm a much stronger person. I wasn't helping myself at all back then, I was completely surrounded by negativity and I was okay with being depressed. I was okay with being that happy girl on the outside and the troubled sad soul on the inside. Things are different now. The depressed girl inside of me is not who I am, nor will I ever give in to her again. This blog is going to be dedicated to the journey, the journey through the pain. To the hope that will always exist, to the complex emotions we feel as human beings. .
You can tell them. Tell them I've changed, that you don't recognize the person looking back at you anymore. Tell them I'm fat, tell them I'm skinny. Tell them I'm broke, or rich, or lost, or alone. What they'll never see is the map lines. The GPS coordinates my feet have danced through. The scars on my body, like the topographic lines of an unknown place. They don't see the streams my tears have fallen through. The fences my feet have jumped. It is my story. My journey. It has been my hands 10 and 2 across the country. My knuckles clenched in anger. My stomach flipping in unease. The butterflies shooting from my heart; soaring to the moon. Close calls, whispered words, pillow flips, lunges through time. Your compass is not mine. Mine doesn't point north. It points straight to my heart, into my soul. Reflecting in my brown eyes, written in my words.
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