About breakthroughs and all that

This post I won’t add a positive thing for the day, because the whole post is about positive change. While I’m still weary about not recovering as fast as I’d wish to, I do have 2  pretty big realizations this week.

Sometimes in life, we have to work towards realizations, but sometimes they just fall upon us. So these 2, just came to me. Ok, no, I would like to think I have earned them. I have spend 4 months going over details of my past, I would rather not relive. I relived them, thought over them, and fried in my own special hell in efforts to reinvent my life.

So here I am today, with some good progress on the horizon, finally. Continue reading

Journaling: Once Upon a Time…

One of the best summers in my life was a summer abroad, working as a housekeeper and traveling. When I had returned from it, I had started a “memoir” about it, so I would never forget how amazing I felt then.

Last night, as I was sending my boyfriend some pictures from that summer and telling him stories about then, I finally started remembering how I felt then. And realized how differently I saw the world now.

The person who believed everything is possible was gone. I had promised myself to never forget to be true to who I am no matter what. What did I know? I was a kid.

And in few short months, I grew up. Fast.


My philosophy was always simple. Find out your passion. Fight for it. Don’t let anything derail you.

And I didn’t. Not when the rape happened. Not after that. Not in the months when I spend at home, crying my eyes out before I managed to somewhat move on. But the fact is, I lost my sense of wonder. Between the PTSD, the depression, and the denial about what happened, I no longer had the energy to truly devote to something. Giving up everything I could to achieve a summer abroad- a summer that broke down everything I was- had thought me that not every price was worth paying, and I no longer was sure if I wanted to find out the price of the life I wished for.

Following a dream when you are afraid of even taking a step is not a winning venture. I couldn’t give up the dream, or follow it, so for 2 years, I was stuck in the middle.

And when yesterday I looked the pictures, for a second they made me see life as I did before. That world from them had looked foreign to me, and I eventually stopped looking pictures, because the slightest try to remember that I had once been happy made me want to cry until I bleed. Because I felt I could no longer be this young, this free, this happy. But last night, for the slightest second, I remembered.

And so I figured, it was time to finish the memoir I had once started. It was time for me to merge the best parts of my former and my current self, and see where it can lead me when I finally see the world as neither fully good nor fully bad, but as it was.