The Real Problem Here….

One of the inherent problems with being a word-smith is that I need to write a lot just to keep track of what actually happened in my life. I know that this may seem absurd at its surface but in the end it’s the truth. I have read so many books, essays, short stories, journals, poems, news articles that I cannot even begin to count in my lifetime that sometimes my actually memory blurs with what I have read and then it contorts even further with what I have written fiction wise so it just becomes this jumbled up mess of ideas and thoughts that are not connected to anything real anymore. What I lost that insurance cannot replace is other then hand written journals is over twenty years of digital writing and every poem I ever hand wrote in my life.

 

I had written things that were just for me or private to remind me of my past, to help me not forget those I had lost touch with and to help me define the truth from the fiction that seems to infest my mind all the time. I lost most of my past is what was really stolen that no insurance can replace. I am so aware that this seems impossible but it is the truth of the matter. All those scraps I wrote were about actual events so I didn’t forget them or get them mashed into some other bizarre thought process that is also fueled by my acute mental illness.

 

I have never really talked to anyone about this problem being as long as I wrote things out it really wasn’t a problem at all but now that all that writing is gone it is right up in my face. I am not really sure how to even tackle this problem or if I just need to let it go and hope for the best. Some people have said that maybe losing everything was the best thing that could have happened and yes on one level it may be but on this level it is not. I guess the first thing I need to do is go through all my hand written journals and try to organize them by date as best I can. I have this nasty habit though, I write in one for a while then move to a different one so this is not going to be all that easy to accomplish.

 

How does one piece together the truth about ones past when most of it was short snippets and blogs that have been removed? I guess I will just have to accept that I may never really know the truth again. The reason I did this was so I never confused things and now that is all I have one big chaotic mess. Maybe I need to just let go of the past but that is how I gauge things in my present and I always have been that way to stay out of traps although this time I failed to do so. I do know that I rarely if ever wrote about the person that I feel did this to me and maybe because I never felt she was worth my time to write about at all I guess. I have been around people like that all the time that just were not all that interesting to me but we were friends nonetheless. I guess from now on I will just surround myself with people that keep my interest and let those that don’t fall by the weigh side. Maybe that is another lesson I needed to learn in this whole episode of my life.

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