After every ending there is a beginning.

I have been doing some confronting of fear lately.  For the past 6 months at least.  Every time I write that, I think about how I used to say 3 months, then 4 months.  I don't remember 5 months at all, but that's probably because I was so caught up in my own little world.  It's hard to slip off the tracks in full sight of everyone, but once you get over the initial embarrassment, it's actually amazing to watch the world from that perspective.  It's been 6 months of slow back-and-forth exchange between my sanity and my skepticism.  Some days I can actively feel the two parts of me duking it out for supreme authority on some way to think or be. 

There is a part of me that insists on things being done the 'right' way.  It also insists that eventually, all of the work must get done.  I have always ignored that part of me, or blocked it, or perhaps the other parts of me are just much louder.  Regardless, that tiny voice was one I couldn't ignore forever.  

 

It's been a long and sometimes scary journey back to the person I am supposed to be.  I wasn't aware I had ever changed, but it's clear now that few things I believed were real.   I found (find) myself crawling out from an emotional tsunami to assess the wreckage, and finding a beautiful place I had never known. 
This place I live now is so beautiful.  I feel loved and accepted and understood.  I find meaning in everything and I am grateful for all of my opportunities and my traumas. 

Sometimes I feel like writing about things that have happened along the way, and I am a bit self-conscious about it.  If you want to read, I invite you in, but I ask you reserve judgement until the end.  Whenever that is.  :)