Last night I spent quite a few hours going through old journals. I was looking for things I had written about a friend and her kids. I knew I had written a story, and I couldn't find it. What I did find however was a look into a life that I didn't realize I had.
With that said, if I die soon and you read my journal, and it has all things negative, maybe even about you, please know that I don't mean what was said.
It's amazing what stress can do to a person. It seems that when I would write in my journal it was almost undoubtedly a stressful moment where the actions of others around me where making my insides want to scream.
On one hand I want to go through and 'edit' my journal, taking out the negative and leaving the positive. If I did that, I would be editing hundreds of pages.
It is amazing to me what my words have taught just in the few hours since I read them.
Life is meant for joy.
I will work towards that joy.
I feel it more now.
Wounds have healed, and scar tissue has built up a wall that will likely protect me from future ailments as I have learned to react different. To love more, to judge less.
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