But I was not honest...

"You did the right thing, covered your scars
Challenged your faith
and closed your eyes driving cars
For all that they knew you were safe home
But you went through hell
whenever you were left alone"
Maria Mena; Internal Dialogue.

So I've gone through allot of stuff in my mind lately, my overactive brain cells are relishing in this attention to detail, trying to find the root of my internal conflicts. And I think I've gotten caught on this whole idealogy I have about being a "strong person", somehow I think I missed that vital lesson on the true meaning of these words, and have misinterpreted them. Over the past few years I've kinda made myself feel better in many situations by telling myself that I am a "stong person" that I can deal with anything... alone. How wrong was I? Well, I know now, and my mistakes have cost me.

My errors have been in my perception of the word "strong" for some reason I was under the impression to be strong you had to show no emotion and weather every storm with a smile on my face. I found that strength, but internally I have had nothing but intense storms. I have, in reality, had no one to turn to, because in my eyes that was a sign of weakness. That's not to say I haven't talked to people when I was going through things, because I did, yet I never really opened up.

I have only started to realise that the strength that would have been invaluable to me in times of difficulties would have been the strength to face my fears as well as my emotions. I know now that I can come face to face with the most unsettling of my emotions and come out a better person. I have discovered that my own brand of strength isn't in hiding from things, as I had previously believed, but my true strength has been in facing some pretty big fears.

This journey of mine has only really begun, but in reality I am enjoying it. I'm relieved that I can abandon some of my jaded bitter views of the world in favour some more optimistic opinions. It's really cool, being able to be honest with myself, unsettling at times but revealing at the same time. I suppose that writting about my "discoveries" is my very own way of remembering, because of a shift in my fear I know fear forgetting all that I have learned in the past little while. I don't want to relapse into my old bitter habbits, so I write as I learn... this way I can remember, I hope.

"I've run out of complicated theories
So now I'm taking back my words
and I'm preparing for the breakdown"
-Maria Mena, Miss Your Love