[I wrote this at least as early as 2016.]

i woke up at my serious business thinking hour with the Lord: 5am. thinking i have to write IT out. IT being what happened to me.

thinking i’m emotionally constipated. i have this huge thing that i’ve gone through that is not integrated into the Sarah that I present to others on a daily basis. And the divide is getting too much to maintain.

it’s a big part of why i can’t lose the weight. every time this huge part of me threatens to be expressed, i literally stuff it back down with food.

i can’t be a good student, an accomplished businesswoman, or a lover because i’m still nursing this other part of me that is in triage. emotional triage. mental triage. a constant state of fear and bleeding out emotionally.

it’s like when someone is hiding any other secret. like if they are attracted to the opposite sex, or if they have done really bad things, etc. It’s a cancer that feeds on itself. like a toxic block. if you don’t get it out then it will dissolve into everything.

it’s not who i introduce people to. ever. sometimes it comes out in conversation. but rarely.

yet, like i expressed yesterday, it’s so huge that i feel programmed.

i rewatched a video yesterday about a blind kid who taught himself how to “see” by throwing out sounds and judging what is ahead of him by the echo it throws back. i think my mind has been messed with to such an extent that i do the same thing emotionally. i am emotionally blind in some significant ways. and almost everything i share with others is some sort of test. their response echoes back to me. and gives me information about them or myself that i am blind to otherwise. like emotional sonar.

but the interesting part of the story of this blind kid is even though he mastered the use of throwing echoes, he refused to use a white cane because he didn’t want others to know that he was blind. he used his echo tool to present himself as like everybody else. and it worked. but he got so caught up in appearing normal that it started to hurt him. at times he needed others to give him assistance. and at times when there was too much going on, he couldn’t hear the echoes clearly. and then without a cane he couldn’t navigate clearly.

i think i can relate. i’ve done really well. all things considered. even on my worst days i’m still doing really well considering where i used to be. from trying to kill myself while i was still a child. at eleven or twelve years old. writing my will out and trying to kill myself. three times before I was fourteen.

i don’t tell people these things. i don’t want them to know. i don’t want to be treated differently. but i’ve been so good at toughing it out by myself and figuring out how to survive that i’ve limited myself. i have walled off a big part of myself. so i am rarely really fully present. to protect myself. from pain. but it has the effect of not being able to fully experience pleasure and success either.

i don’t want to be treated differently. i don’t want people to see my weaknesses. i work so hard to be independent. but to the point where i hurt myself. i don’t ask for help when i need it. i do fine in controlled environments. but stick me in a situation i haven’t prepared for and my old methods of coping aren’t adequate.

in trying to be tough enough and strong enough that people don’t treat me differently, i’ve missed out. i’ve walled myself into a tiny box in the world.

i slowly let my guard down with people who have earned my trust. but i fear it is overwhelming to them because of how much power the past still has over me. like nuclear reactor waste water. emotionally speaking.

even telling you that i was angry. that was so scary. terrifying.

emotionally, i feel like i have to be cool and calm all the time in order to be treated normally. that a normal person is totally cool. and that anger is a sign that i am not in control of myself.

but you already knew. which surprised me.

and also surprised me when you asked me a long time ago if anything happened to me when i was a kid. it made me kind of sad. because i thought i was hiding it well. but i guess not.

like the blind kid thinking just because people treat him normally then that must mean they can’t tell that he is blind. well of course they can tell he is blind. because first of all he can’t look them in the eye.

to continue the analogy, i guess i tough it out well enough that people for the most part treat me normally. but they can still tell there is something wrong.

i don’t want to revisit the past because i’m afraid i will get stuck there. like it took me so long to get where i am that i’m afraid to look back. i’m afraid to tell my story.

but honestly that has been the theme for me lately.

i say to the Lord: ok, i’ll just tell myself. write it down. throw it out.

but i’m afraid that God wants me to be bold enough to share it with others. because another successful woman – not a big deal. but another successful woman who went through some junk and came out on the other side – now that’s hope. and people need hope.

heck, i need hope. that’s why i love stories of people who don’t give up.

does God want me to share my story?

of course He is going to get glory.

He gave me the gift of writing. i know it.

is my story what i am supposed to write? i think maybe i’ve always known i was supposed to write it and share it with others. just seems like too much bad. and i fear people will be disgusted and not want me around.