It is such an odd thing to look at the writings that have come from your own past. Most of the time when I feel the need to write, there is a void I am looking to be filled in my life, or something that I am actively avoiding confronting. It is in those moments that the most "interesting" blogs come about. I am almost always very pleased as I write them, as well as when I finish. I will write all about my inner-most feelings, and somehow feel like someone may read it, be interested, be helped in some way. I am flattered by my own arrangement of the words to express what I am feeling or what I am not feeling inside.
And then, months later, I read those very same entries, smack my little forehead with my palm and ask myself "Why? Why did I post that?" My eyes become wide, my lips purse, and my inner voice whispers quietly to itself "Quick! Delete! Delete!" My heart even races a bit. Because, you see, the truth is that the "interesting" is truthfully, rather, more irrational emotion than anything.
True, we are only human, and as humans pain is inevitable. But it is the most unnerving thing to look at your past and see a moment where you've truly strayed from that strong, courageous, I-can-do-anything-I-set-my-mind-to person that you generally are, to write an over-emotional and public announcement that you have done so to whomever stumbles across this page on the internet.
But perhaps these shall, from now on, serve as good reminders to myself that I simply don't want to go there again. There is enough pain, anger and heartbreak in this world. I think next time I want to visit one of those emotions, I'll look back here and remind myself of that fact, decide to move along, and most definitely not to share!