The questions
In rewinding the yo-yo of my life in the Spring of 1978, I started the new lab job at the hospital in my hometown. It was the beginning of the last phase of being trapped in that house, even as it would take me until 1983 to get out finally.
The questions in my mind as I thought back to those years were:
- What was happening over those 5 years?
- How did I get out?
- Why did it take me so long?
- Was I suddenly “a healed, complete” adult when I got out?
From my writing class at the Farmington High School and the journal training from my high school English teacher, Terry Doyle, I figured out two things: 1. Writing had power. And 2. Journaling was the tool.
“That” journal
So for whatever reason, in spite of my depression and lethargy then, I started a journal. This one covered the years of 1979-1983. Not every day, and at one point, there was even a gap of two years. But still, it was an unexpected treasure.
Until these last couple of weeks, I had not read those journal entries since I wrote them all those years ago. Being impatient and wanting to get on with my writing, I started flipping through pages to see if I could get a quick feel for what I needed. But it just as quickly became clear, that approach wouldn’t work.
A lot happened in my life, in me, from 1979-1983. If I were to get useful answers, I needed to relive those years. That meant reading ALL the entries. I will confess it was overwhelming. The amount of depression and pain. The loneliness and despair. The things that went on. The “data” was all there, but what was it telling me?
Discoveries
First, as I read, I realized that there was so much more going on with me than I ever thought. All those years that I hated that younger version of me, thinking she was just “existing” and not trying, I found I was mistaken. I may have been broken by years of abuse, and at times, just collapsed from despair. But I was surprised to see just how much I was struggling to figure out what to do.
I highlighted passages and marked certain moments with sticky notes, noticing that there were important and recurring themes. And where I assumed I was “dormant,” I had actually been seeking, growing, and evolving, even if very slowly. It was a lot of trial and error and confusion, but there was a lot going on.
Finally, I made a mind map for each of those five years. I captured the significant things, good and bad, from each year, then started to identify trends of growth and distill patterns of insights over time. I was surprised by what I saw. I think most of us forget more than we remember, especially of the difficult times. And for sure, I think we don’t give ourselves enough credit for how much we try in any moment. I may have had a lot of failures and confusion. But in any moment, I realize now, I was doing my best…and more than I had remembered.
The heart of that young woman
I also started to see me as a real person with a heart. The loneliness and longing for love, connection, SOMEONE to share a life with, as evidenced by the poems I wrote in my journal then….”Come live with me, and be my love…”
So many clues to who I was were in those pages, which let me finally tease out some of the main threads of my life from then.
I will be sharing the themes shortly. I just need to move a bit slower in this as I reflect, and think…and appreciate what that younger person did for me…for my survival, growth, and escape, in spite of all the obstacles.
Stay tuned as I slowly weave the clues back into a coherent whole.
Tags: journal, journaling, life, mental-health, writing
Soul Mosaic 
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