the things you remember, the things you forget

For those who requested a follow-up on my meeting with an “old” friend (she’s actually not old in years), it was wonderful, and oddly just like we were best friends again and no time had passed since we were. I can’t adequately put into words how happy I am. See me grinning like an idiot next to her in our instagram pose!

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Even cuter than we were a decade ago

I’m also glad I got to share something joyful on this blog, as baby loss and foster care blogs can be endlessly (and rightfully) depressing.

I tracked down an online journal I had kept for about 6 years, from 2003 to 2009. I am amazed at how eloquently I was able to put my feelings into words, and blown away by the quality of my poetic efforts at age 19. I certainly can’t write like that now. I was intensely romantic, even in an Edgar Allen Poe kind of way. If that’s what it takes to write beautiful poetry, though, I’d rather pass. There were many dark days documented, days where I would take crazy amounts of benzos and sleep for 36 hours straight.

I also saw the patterns of codependency that emerged in my last relationship clear as day in my first. The strong feelings of emotional need and unbalance written there in black and white tugs on my heart. And yet, my words show a strength that I don’t remember having, a resiliency that kept me moving forward with my goals in life even when I could barely stand living in my skin for the next five minutes.

Who was that person at 19 and 20? We can feel so divorced from distant circumstances and easily forget that we are still carrying our younger selves with us. I’m glad that I recorded my deepest thoughts and feelings because now, a decade later, as I see myself in them, still. If I look beyond the moronic choices, the awful taste I had in romantic partners, and the blinding depression, I find the core of who I still am. I find that even though I chose unwisely at times (ok, most of the time), deep down I knew. I knew who and what was really important. I knew which friendships mattered, and which relationships didn’t.

If I can continue to remember that my intuition has and always will be the voice to trust, I know I’ll do a lot better in the decade to come. It’s a goal worthy of working hard for.

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1 Comment »

  1. Oh, wow. I can’t even imagine the combined horror and hilarity of finding a journal written when I was 19. I have some scraps… letters and such. I should dig them up. It’s great that you can see the core of who you were/are still shining through and leading you down the path you know you belong on.

    So happy things went well with your simultaneously old/new friend! I can relate – and I’ve been so grateful to have that friend back in my life after such a long absence.

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