My Journal Gives Me Space..

I remember the day I decided to choose differently. I remember it so well because it was my worst day. Thursday afternoon, towards the end of August. I was laying in bed, my usual place. I was telling myself that there was something very wrong with my head. I was telling myself that I was going to die because there was something wrong with my head. I was telling myself no one cared about me. I was telling myself that I had been forgotten. I was telling myself I was alone in my struggle. I was telling myself being alone meant I was stuck there.

I remember calling my boyfriend, I remember getting mad when he wasn't on his way home from work yet. I remember telling myself it was because he didn't want to be there for me either. I remember feeling so much sadness that it all faded into feeling nothing. I remember not knowing what to do with myself. I laid there for a while, telling myself everything negative that I could think of. Letting it go through my mind over and over again like a never ending story. A story that I made up myself...

I remember the moment I decided to sit up out of bed. I remember getting sick of hearing my own made up story. I remember putting on clothes that weren't pajamas and I remember grabbing my keys. I didn't know where I was going, but I had to get out. I had to get out of my head.

I found myself in the parking lot of a Dollarama. Something told me I needed to buy a notebook and a pen. Something told me if I was going to keep replaying the same sad story, I needed to write it down. I needed to get it out of my head.

I drove for a while, I found a spot that seemed right. I stopped and pulled over and I grabbed out my new notebook and pen. I started to write down my story, I started to let it flow out of me. I wrote for what felt like a really long time, I didn't stop until there wasn't anything left to say. Here was my story, sitting in front of me. All that I had thought, the story I had made.

I remember feeling relief, I remember feeling lighter. I remember reading over my story and realizing that not everything I had stated to myself was the truth. I remember seeing all the lies I was telling myself. I remember thinking... "hey this kind of worked". I remember reading the parts where I said that no one cared about me... I remember thinking " hey I don't think that's entirely true".

I remember feeling like I made space, like letting my story flow out of me made room for a new one to take place. I remember thinking to myself that things didn't need to be this way, they didn't need to be so hard. I remember thinking even though I thought all I had was myself... that it wasn't even half that bad. I remember saying to myself " look what you just did, YOU made yourself feel better than you have in months" I remember driving back home. I remember feeling different. I remember feeling hope.

I still go back and read my first journal entry, I still remind myself how far I have come. I still look at the words that came out of me... I realize I don't feel that way anymore. I shared my darkest secrets and decided to dig myself out. My journal is my greatest tool, my greatest confident. My journal listens and gets the full truth.

My journal allows me to have space to write a new story...