I’ve become aware of how much time I’m losing (rather than shrugging things off, I acknowledge that I am missing entire conversations, events, hours, even days at a time, on a regular basis).
It’s really sunk in to start leaving notes for myself. So now, I find clues as to what I do and sometimes what I’ve been thinking about–which is good news for me. There have been so many times when I have zoned out and when I come back, I feel sad, scared, upset, or occasionally very happy (like a child), but I could never remember how I got to the point of feeling how I felt.
I’ve been reading these notes I leave for myself and they tell a story. A story about a teenager who walked away from one side of the family, and then buried the pain and loss of it. These notes tell me that I didn’t know better, not to beat myself up over it, and to reach out and see if things can be mended.
These aren’t the notes of someone who is crazy or broken. These are the notes of someone who has gained insight and wants to love people in their life.