Yesterday I had a sudden urge to revisit my former self. I was just standing in my room and had the thought "I want to remember who I used to be". Most of old journals are packed away but I do keep one out because it's pretty brief and concise. It captures mostly feelings in my life and not so much people, places, or events. Although I always know by the date exactly what was happening and why I was feeling that way.
Honestly, it was a painful journey. It's hard to look back and remember how much I struggled. I felt so alone back then. I really believed that no one understood me. I was living with deep feelings and not much understanding of where I fit in the world. And I was terrified of letting anyone see it. One poem struck me in particular. I think it summarizes how I felt while I was working out how to become an adult.
This place is messy
full of scrambled feelings
being tossed around
and held in tight quarters
being stretched and prodded
cross examined and questioned
but kept locked in a box
not allowed to spill
or spread
a huge mess in a little box
threatening to escape
waiting in the box
its ready to explode
to paint the world
with this mess
to paint a beautiful picture
with a hopeless mess
to paint a story
of love
with mess
(12-16-07)
It's crazy to me now reading that how it almost perfectly describes an INFP. INFP's feel things so deeply and personally but seem so calm on the outside. And they usually enjoy art so they often literally paint their messy feelings. I write mine out. Sometimes in poetry.
The journal does have a happy ending. Sort of. I mean there's still blank pages in there for me to write on so it technically hasn't ended yet. I wrote about John and how good it felt to finally be understood by someone. I finally found someone to unload all of my crazy thoughts and feelings. There's not much written in the journal after that. I had less need to express my pain in writing.
I'm glad I have these memories to look back on. It's good to see how far I've come in regards to emotional health. It kinda makes me wonder what I'll be like in another 10 years. I'll be unstoppable.
Honestly, it was a painful journey. It's hard to look back and remember how much I struggled. I felt so alone back then. I really believed that no one understood me. I was living with deep feelings and not much understanding of where I fit in the world. And I was terrified of letting anyone see it. One poem struck me in particular. I think it summarizes how I felt while I was working out how to become an adult.
This place is messy
full of scrambled feelings
being tossed around
and held in tight quarters
being stretched and prodded
cross examined and questioned
but kept locked in a box
not allowed to spill
or spread
a huge mess in a little box
threatening to escape
waiting in the box
its ready to explode
to paint the world
with this mess
to paint a beautiful picture
with a hopeless mess
to paint a story
of love
with mess
(12-16-07)
It's crazy to me now reading that how it almost perfectly describes an INFP. INFP's feel things so deeply and personally but seem so calm on the outside. And they usually enjoy art so they often literally paint their messy feelings. I write mine out. Sometimes in poetry.
The journal does have a happy ending. Sort of. I mean there's still blank pages in there for me to write on so it technically hasn't ended yet. I wrote about John and how good it felt to finally be understood by someone. I finally found someone to unload all of my crazy thoughts and feelings. There's not much written in the journal after that. I had less need to express my pain in writing.
I'm glad I have these memories to look back on. It's good to see how far I've come in regards to emotional health. It kinda makes me wonder what I'll be like in another 10 years. I'll be unstoppable.
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