Something my soul has been craving but didn’t realize was writing. Writing has been an escape throughout my life. A way to dig a bit deeper and put my thoughts down on paper. Throughout the hardest times I have found myself searching for different ways to make me feel better, to quiet the noise, the never ending what if running through my mind, many of them less than productive but writing has always been cathartic for me but I’ve held back due to what people may think of what I have to say.
Years ago when I would write blogs about whatever would come to mind, the internet wasn’t what it was. It was easier to be open, to what felt like a smaller audience, it felt safer then. Everything is so accessible but something is different this time. This time, writing seems necessary. Separating my voice from the noise. Sitting with my thoughts, my fears, my obsessions and getting through it rather than escaping.
Recovery isn’t purging and never looking back. It’s sitting with the feeling and understanding that we can handle whatever imperfection, obsession, traumatic thought or urge comes our way without running the other direction. Instead it makes us powerful, it makes us alert and aware, it forces us to know ourselves if we want to.
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