Filled.

If there’s satisfaction in reading the last page and closing a book, there’s euphoria when it’s a journal of your own handwriting. I noticed yesterday how low on pages I was. I started journaling this morning, knowing whatever I wrote would fill it. The last entry of this journal had to be as reflective as I’ve spent this year.

I started this notebook on December 22, 2022. My first bit was about how I’m different when I’m 29. That was my mantra after my birthday. It still rings true.

This year, more than any other, I’ve focused on bettering myself. I’ve examined my triggers, reactions, and struggles- dissected them, and now know them intimately. It hasn’t been about changing them or me but understanding. Why am I like this? What brought me here? I’m meeting myself with awe and compassion. I have a lot to be proud of, but there is always room for improvement.

However, trying to improve without a deep dive into the why is like running uphill during a mudslide. You’re working your ass off but making no progress, leaving yourself exhausted. I’ve been there too many times to count, which leads to a shame spiral. Things feel hopeless; nothing will ever change, and I give up. Evidence of this cycle fills the pages of my journal. It’s like a roller coaster I haven’t figured out how to get off of. Instead of panicking and fighting the stuck, I’m learning to accept the ride for what it is. Things aren’t so scary when you stop fighting and surrender.

Nothing gets better unless I do better.

This plays on a loop in my mind. I can’t keep doing the same lame shit, complaining, and moping, and expect anything to change. I use this phrase as a push to get me moving and to keep going on my hard days. It works. When I force myself to do better, I always feel better. Human brains are such a labyrinth of hope and despair. It’s infuriating to always have the right answer but not to be willing to take it and put it into action.

Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time talking to Thea about controlling her impulses. She’s self-serving as every toddler, or really every human, is wired to be. Our big issue is her snatching from her brother. I take “her” out of the equation. I explain that her body wants to make her happy, so as soon as she wants something, it grabs it and snatches it away. But her brain knows the right thing. Her brain will help her make good choices if she slows down and listens to it. This has helped us with this behavior issue, but the benefits are even more far-reaching.

This is true for her. This is true for me. The theme of slowing down and thinking things through is another pillar of this journal. I don’t think there’s a better way to get to know yourself than through journaling. I’ll go into it with one agenda or no plan and shock myself with the revelations that come. I have all the answers in me. It takes quieting my mind and environment and giving myself space to wonder and sort. It takes treating myself with the same grace I’m so quick to hand out to everyone else. If I go to write and nothing comes out, I know I’ve lost touch, and there’s a more significant issue. It’s hard to be honest with yourself 100% of the time. On the days that nothing comes, I’m being a liar, a runner, and someone I’m not proud of.

I’m a beautiful, complex soul who will never run out of things to offer. These offerings are for me. Whether I present them publicly, create something from their inspiration, or lock them away as a secret- freedom comes with unlocking their chains from my soul.

The work is hard. It gets heavy. But I’m better than I’ve ever been. I know myself so well and love myself for it and through it.

As Thea would say, “You already know what your baby is going to do.”

I’m going to keep writing.