I guess the concern I have run into lately is that by having all these parts of my life displayed online, it's as if people think they know me. Where I have been, what's best for me. And the fact of the matter is I hardly know myself well enough to know where it is I want to be, should be, need to go. Those stories, that girl that I used to be, are gone now. I don't know if time has changed me, tragedy, maybe it was just a long time coming. But I don't feel like the girl who typed those words down so confidently over the last how many months. She is a stranger to me now, and I sure as hell don't think any of those stories will define who I am supposed to be today and moving forward. That is just who I was, and what I did. Not who I am, or where I am going.
I will always love to write. And the joke of this whole thing is that I only enjoy writing about my life, as it is all I know. But right now I can't even form words to make sense of my heart and my head to my closest friends, nonetheless make them sound whimsical and inviting to you readers out there. The fact of the matter is I am a bit of a lost soul these days. I don't know how to fix anything; myself, my relationships, my broken heart. I do know that it is something I will have to figure out entirely on my own. I am so consumed with how people perceive me. Whether I am a good enough friend, girlfriend, daughter, sister, coworker. I need to let myself off the hook for everyone else's perceptions and start living my life in the way that is going to make me the happiest. Fuck if I know what that is, though.
I will write again. Somewhere, someday when I have something more to say. It won't be here though. I'm not "Forget Katie Keller" anymore. I'm not the girl who wears her sexual prowess as a badge of honor. I am not the girl that kisses and tells. I am not the girl who needs every moment of her life validated by a "total blog views" number on a stupid website. These words have been mine, and they can remain as they once were true. But I am bowing out from this blog. From that girl. And trying desperately to figure out what's next. Life is hard. Getting up everyday not knowing if I will ever be able to figure out what I am, and what I want is exhausting. I am bruised all over from loss and pain and hurt. I don't know who I trust and what bridges are meant to remain and which are meant to burn. I don't know what my story is, therefore there really isn't a reason to keep telling one here.
I have loved sharing the good and the bad with you all. And I have loved even more the support and encouragement I received from my friends and family that took the time to read all my silly words. They all seemed so big and important when I was writing them. And now not much of anything seems big and important. So I'm off to find something big and important. Something inside my soul tells me that big and important thing will be me. And whenever I get there, whenever I find what it is I am here for, what I am meant for, I will come back. I'll have a different story to tell, about a different girl, that did things differently.
Goodnight, and good luck.
For me, writing for myself in a journal I never share has showed me myself. I sometimes feel the same as you do as far as what I've shared online in blogs. I sometimes want to delete it all. I haven't posted much lately because my heart and the change within me is personal and it's okay to not want to share it with the world.
ReplyDeleteBut write for you, for yourself. It doesn't have to be today or tomorrow or even a month from now but Katie, you write for yourself. Write until you figure out what the stillness in your heart means or until you surrender to it.
***Eckart Toll wrote once, "When people tell me, "don't know who I am anymore" I congratulate them. They often ask me, "why are you congratulating confusion." I tell them that "I don't know" is not confusion. "i don't know but I should know" is confusion."***
Katie if you don't know what your story is anymore don't confuse that with confusion. You are not confused. You just don't know. You are in the unknown.
The unknown is vast and weather a person willingly walks into it or it walks up to them, you have to enter the forever of unknown with a closed fist. There is nothing in the unknown for a finger to land on, to point at. To blame, to hate, to rest on. I think people like myself would be happier or at least more confident in my abilities to create happiness, if I stopped looking at stress or "I DON'T KNOW" as something that needs to be remedied, but something sort of like a specimen. "I don't know" can be a friend.
But don't stop writing. For yourself. For you. In pages only you see.
I love you. You are not alone in the unknown.