Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Duration: 10 minutes
Location: On pillow, on floor.
Today’s session was sad. Not at first, but towards the end. Feelings of sadness for the way others have tried to help me and I haven’t let them. My dad for not letting him help me out for my personal training business. And for not taking the time to ask more clarifying questions as to what he gets out of helping me. Why does he want to so badly? For not giving Priya the tools necessary to help me out more when she wanted to. For not acknowledging every time she helped. I hurt my baby and I hate it when I do this. This seems to be a reccurring theme and how many times can hurt be done before it can no longer be undone?
A few days ago a thought crossed my mind about these journal writings. They served their purpose for quite sometime, but all of a sudden they seem martyr like. That if I write them and don’t share them then what’s the point. These personal writings are my innermost thoughts and these thoughts I want to share. I want to share them with my baby. I want her to know that I’m scared at just how much she really means to me. That today when I looked around, things didn’t seem right. It felt like forever today when I didn’t speak to her and it was only three o’clock. I still had the whole day ahead of me. I want her to be near me.