The little me is proud now Of the nos I can say And the yes‘s i stand behind The people I let go off And the people I let it The fear I faced I befriended The gift I acknowledge of The spark within I let out She is without a doubt Looking at me with An admiring big black eyes I got out The freedom price was high High and drunk on the freedom I convince myself Everyday Am I free ? Totally free ?
We danced very well.. We became masters .. We moved our hips with avoidance and let the touches of anxiety everywhere on our bodies.. We danced until we bled blood flowing and tears droping on the dance floor.. Waiting for someone to declare the end of the dance I realised late that it was up to me to stop. Dance dance dance.. i set myself free … I could breath again. but I was dying inside, crying and shouting to take me back to the dance floor..
A couple days ago i was talking to a friend about time managment , she recommended me an application to organise my to-do lists, after downloading it i found it that i had a 4 years old account there with my to-do lists , grocery lists and two notes , it hit me hard reading them.
it was the time right before starting my therapy Journey, when i was in the middle of a toxic Friendship that pushed over the edge and had a toll on my Mental health; exactly four years ago.
i remember starting countless of blogs over the years only to not ever write in them, or forget totally about them that at some point i just gave up ever putting my thoughts out there.
Fear that someone i know would read them and the doubt that what I write wouldn’t be enough anyway , indecisiveness in which language should i write in? do i have what it takes ? i am not disiplined enough ,maybe my Grammar is not good enough ,if i exposed what i think i would be naked out there to be judged and ridiculed
what will i have left for me?
writing has always been something magical for me, i started a blog on Tumblr back in the day in 2009 and i really liked it; having someone to read my words and at the time i was all about science and school grades,i didnt allow myself to discover my creative artsy side and started making articles about science just copying articles from wikipedia and it was educational and got some attention, at the time there was a feature on tumblr called editor pages according to each topic and my blog got picked many times and at some point i could even pick other blogs and edit the science section with other bloggers.
honestly i was flattered but deep down i knew it wasn’t my work , i shouldnt be praised nor picked for anything because i only copied ; i mentioned always my sources but it wasnt original.
i knew i had things to say in my own words i just i could not allow myself to.
the thing is i started writing since i was 9-10 years old with short poems and notes here and there to get me through a troubled and strict home and a lot of confusion in the family and school.
when it felt like there is no air for me to breath at home I would just learn and read and write.
i just didnt know where to belong and what i felt or thought ,Homework and books were my refuge from everything, my safe sanctuary …
They still are but i guess after four years of therapy i can now make sense of almost everything that happened in my life and i get to tell the story.