There are some memories of my past that never fail to bring tears to my eyes, regardless of how long ago the event in question happened. I seem to have a rich past of trauma that still stings even though some of these memories are from as long ago as when I was 4, 8 and 10. It seems almost strange to me that talking about these memories with someone will make me well up with instant tears. Very rarely can I talk or even think about these memories without tears.
Some of these painful memories seem to be the key to some sort of intrinsic part of my personality like my overwhelming abandonment issues that crop up occasionally, or my preoccupation with food and dislike bordering on anxiety about eating in front of strangers or in groups. I have wanted to write about my history of trauma for a while, but fear and anxiety has put a stopper on those stories and emotions. There are days when I can barely hold it together and I fear swimming into the deep end of these memories and problems. It was one thing to agonize over Mr. Intellectual and my sordid relationships as they related to my depression and its a whole other level when I start to unravel the rest of the trauma.
This is part of the reason why I've allowed the blog to languish into almost irrelevance in the last year or so. I had exorcised a big demon in my life and wasn't ready to move onto other mental exercises, but I think the time is right. I have a very supportive man in my life and I feel like I'm starting to get myself back on track for the degree. I'm happier and more content with things now than I have been in years. I still have my down days and weeks, but on the whole I feel like I'm on an upswing. Now to push past the fear and actually press "publish" on some of the more troubling things I've been sitting on.
