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Over the past few weeks (15 days) since I wrote my first blog, I’ve started to feel a little less anxious, more focused, and generally present in life. The light is on and someone appears to be home! It’s not that blogging helps me get through my work or solve any specific problems (yet), but it does allow me to take the thoughts that are usually doing cartwheels in my head, and get them down somewhere in order to make room for the other important things I need to think about. The term “Monkey Mind” refers to, “A person who suffers from a consciousness whose constituent parts will not stop bouncing from skull-side to skull-side, which keep flipping and jumping and flinging feces at the walls and swinging from loose neurons like howlers from vines,” and I definitely have a monkey mind (Monkey Mind by Daniel Smith is an incredible book and I highly recommend it!).

About a year and a half ago, during a time I’d most certainly refer to as my own personal dark age (you all know what I’m talking about), I started writing in a journal to attempt to remove the gymnast monkeys from my brain; to help me sleep and to help me figure out WHAT THE HELL I was doing wrong to end up upset every other day (at best). When writing, I figured that one day I would re-read my entries and learn from my past mistakes as well as feel more fortunate for the better situation I was currently in. Like Kelsie said in her last post, I was hoping that I’d look back to the events that at the time, seemed to represent the end of my world, and laugh at how silly they really were. Over time, I noticed that my entries were becoming more and more depressing. It seemed that I would only write when I hit rock bottom and didn’t want to bother my friends and family with the same issues I already cried to them about on a weekly basis. When I was happy, I barely wrote. I was so excited to be out in the world living my life that I didn’t want to be cooped up alone in my room, writing a “diary” entry to my future self. I recently remembered two Thought Catalog articles that perfectly articulate this little phenomenon: Why it’s harder to write when you’re happy and Why it’s easier to write when you’re sad. Not only does this blog force me to be more positive (because it’s still making it’s way to the e-mail inboxes of my friends and family anyway), but it also makes me WANT to be more positive. As important as reflecting on mistakes is in order to not make them again, I’d much rather share and remember the happy times, and the positive lessons I’ve learned from both good and bad experiences. So while you all continue to be wonderful and supportive readers, I will continue to write because not only is it therapeutic for me, but I hope it can also be helpful and hopeful for you!

 

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