Last night’s post is still on my mind.
I will say that sometimes I think a private journal may be a more appropriate outlet for some of the thoughts I have. Perhaps last night was one of those times. I don’t know, and maybe I don’t care. I do know that it felt good to write down what I’m thinking. I believe that for myself, things aren’t real until they are written. Rather than continue on with Fear & Self Loathing in St. Louis in silence, I wrote it down.
With all of that still top of mind for me this article presented itself to me this morning and it ended with this:
Your unresolved stories are sick. More specifically — they’re making you sick.
Unresolved stories are like ancient poison. Not enough to kill you. Just enough to numb out your potential.
What’s your broken-record track?
What’s the ancient spiel your best friend or partner have long-since learned to tune out?
What’s the New Year’s resolution that garners a recurring spot, every year?
What’s gone on so long, it’s laughable? Ridiculous? Supremely unacceptable?
And what’s it going to take to tear that old story outta the book of your life, with a violent riiiii-iiiip?
Right off. Yeowch. Like a band-aid. It’s time. And a half.
I do wish the article ended with some more solid steps to break the cycle. I’m looking forward to health insurance again when I can resume meetings with my favorite therapist. She was incredibly helpful in resolving my ex-husband anger/hurt issues. I look forward to seeing what she can do with this. What ultimately I’ll do about this. About what the article called supremely unacceptable.
I’m off to do some dishes. I can finish that.