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My Unassuming Listener

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I use to write a long time ago. In fact, it was sort of like therapy to me. I spent many sleepless nights alone in my room with a pen and loose leaf paper (the green notebook which housed many of these entries)…writing. Depicting a time of my life when I felt most alone, sad, angry, hurt. These were truly the darkest days I’ve ever experienced. Yet, the therapeutic rhythm to the scratch of that ballpoint pen helped to shine some light on those darkest nights. It was my relief, my unassuming listener, my tourniquet.

That was my therapy then. And somewhere along the way… I grew up.

Now well over 10 years later, I find myself longing for the same relief to a feeling that I haven’t felt since those days left alone in my room. I’ve abandoned that side of me that was able to let all feeling and emotions out through 15 minutes of writing. What does this say about me now?

I was driving home today from work and felt so empty. That all too familiar sense of sadness surfaced again as well.

So tonight as I publish my first post in 10 years, I am reminded about the concept of “unintended consequences” that a friend taught me a few years back. “A term used to describe a set of results that was not intended as an outcome.” There are things we sometimes do in life that produce consequences that were never intentional. Sometimes good, other times bad. This blog is meant to explain some of those actions that result in unintended consequences.

Life throws you curve balls; how do you deal with them?  This is how I deal. 

 

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