Time heals all wounds. It’s a cliché, but I think it’s true.
You are someone important, and you owe it to yourself to face whatever you’ve been been running from, and take back your life.
When you look good on the outside, it motivates you to make your inside match.
I don’t want to be anyone’s prey anymore, and I’m learning to protect myself by saying no to situations that make me uncomfortable, or that I know I can’t afford to be involved in.
Over the past few months, I’ve learned that there are two types of selfishness that people exude: the first kind is a more positive form that I think is the hardest to grasp, especially for people-pleasers. We would rather suffer just to make others happy. We’re givers, making us easy targets for takers, which leads me to the second type of selfishness.
I occasionally write poetry. It’s usually when I’m going through some sort of emotional turmoil. It’s an outlet, one that helps me get that awful, painful stuff out in a way that’s both healthy and beautiful. Here’s one I wrote about a month ago.
We’ve all done it. We’ve broken up with someone and want to know how they’re doing, only we don’t want them to know that, so we watch from a distance (or behind our computer screens). We start off by telling ourselves that it’ll just be one time, then we won’t do it anymore. We just want to see if they’ve moved on, if they post about us, if they’ve changed their photo, etc.
This semester, my beat for my Health and Medical Journalism class was mental health for marginalized groups. For my readers who aren’t studying journalism and have no idea what a “beat” is, it is a topic that we’ve chosen to write stories about (or I guess it’s assigned in newsrooms from time to time).
As I sit in my room at 1:13 AM trying to write my last story of the semester, my mind wanders. This always happens. Like most people, I have a hard time concentrating, especially when I don’t want to do something or my heart isn’t in it. My heart is not in this story all. It’s the end of the semester, I’m tired (emotionally and physically), and I don’t understand why we’re doing this. Alas, I will do it, because I am not a quitter. But first, what better way to get my mind jogging than by starting a blog? Let’s begin, shall we?