A Journals Burden
You hold so much. If you don't, who will? I can't! It is too much for me to carry. For a long time, I tried, but I ended up seeing a chiropractor. IT AFFECTS EVERYTHING when I hold it all, and my health deteriorates. But you are different; it does not weigh you down as it does me. You carry it with grace. I was supposed to learn to carry my hurt with grace, but I failed that class. My hair was falling out, my skin was breaking out, and I was gaining weight; it was too much for me. You look the same, though, unbothered, full of pain. How do you do it? I am glad you do it. I trust I can be safe with you. You allow me to say how I feel without using it against me. Unless you fall into the wrong hands, that can be detrimental.
Whenever I cast my cares upon you, my tears tell me my core temperature as they fall warm upon my face. Once the rain stops, my shirt needs changing; I am shaking and feeling faint. Does that show I released it all for that session? I hope so. I have enough pain to give everyone I know. As soon as I get over one thing, there is another. Thank you for being there. I have never felt protected or safe. The one who knows me is you. You know how I feel. YOU KNOW ME, what I’m saying when I’m quiet, when the relationships have ended and when I want to throw in the towel.
My lifesaver you are. When I could not cry, the words were my tears. I wanted to scream; I screamed through them. You talked me off the ledge and helped me make sense of situations—nothing like diaries that held secrets about kissing boys. You detain my broken pieces. The burden you bear is intense, but I am glad you are there. Thank you for being so willing. You never run out of space. Allowing me to collect you, I can tell you of my hurts forever—my counselors who don't speak. You open yourself and allow me to fill the lines, however, that may look at the moment.
Heavy like rain-soaked clothing, I pour it all out. If it takes days, you allow me the time I need. I get to see myself and shift my perspective. My blood pressure is normal, and I no longer have anxiety attacks. Visits with you have been better than those who think a pill heals trauma. I have put my creative energy to good use with you rather than using it on those I will have to come to you about. I can't thank you enough. Only with you do I feel better. The bottle or the arms of a man have never felt better. No amount of shopping, drugs, or pound cake has made me feel the way you do. With you, I am cleansing; with them, I am making matters worse. You helped me find solutions; they brought more problems. I encourage others to come to you, but they refuse. I know your value, therefore, I will always seek you.
Thanks for reading! If you require a journal to begin your healing journey, follow me on Amazon and check out some of mine. Journaling is not to replace therapy or routine doctor's visits. Please continue to see your physician.
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