Why I Journal

It began in 1976 or so. They sat opposite one another in the small office that was illuminated by the soft pink glow of her desk lamp, and the sparkling lights of the city below that she could see from her uncomfortable vantage point. It wasn’t like they pictured in those silly cartoons. You know; where the patient is laying on a chaise, spilling his troubled guts while the therapist nods knowingly and takes notes.

This was so different. Here, every Wednesday night at 6:30 she sat in a chair and the therapist sat in a chair just a foot or so away, facing her. Looking deep into her sad green eyes. Asking her tough questions and expecting answers. Sorta like a blistering hot seat she thought and she felt (did she just say “felt?”) it was so ironic that she was paying for this!

If Mrs. Boyer; wise, loving Mrs. Boyer at the Christian Counseling Service was supposed to make things better in her young life, why did it hurt so damn bad? Why were the sessions bringing her to tears each and every time? How long would it take for her to “find” herself and really know who she is?

And, what kind of bullshit-therapy-speak-stuff is that anyway…… WHO is Lisa?

“Lisa is“………she thought. “Hmmmmm” she thought harder.

“Lisa is………….a 23 year old, wife and mother of two.”

Yeah. That’s it.

ME in a nut shell.

Me.

 

Boy was I horribly wrong and naïve. For several long years, Mrs. Boyer and I became a team as we peeled back the layers of a scared, scarred young woman who was discovering her ability to love and live truthfully and passionately. At times she was the mother figure I so desperately needed and other times she was my best friend, with whom I could share my sorrowful secrets or a hearty belly laugh. She was my cheerleader when I took baby steps or when the light bulb finally clicked on in my ever-expanding consciousness. When I couldn’t believe in God, she taught me to trust the “Forces of Good!” She gave me hope when I thought all was lost and she urged me forward when I wanted to hide in the corner.

Despite it all, I grew stronger, more confident and open to the lessons of the universe. I discovered that I was so much more than just a wife and a mother and I yearned to give life what I had to offer. It was then time to move on and leave my beloved Mrs. Boyer. Over the years, I would write to her to let her know my progress and to express my gratitude for all she did for me. It’s been many years since I have written and I am not sure that she’s still gracing this earth, but I keep on trying to figure out who I am.

In a way, my journaling has replaced Mrs. Boyer. I confide in my journal, share my sorrows and joy, and release my raw pain. I look for answers, comfort and validation of my feelings from my many wise Mother figures. I am challenged and encouraged from thoughtful comments regarding my photographs or my story-telling ability. I am strengthened by sharing in the lives of others who are just as flawed and uniquely human as me.

And thanks to journaling, I am still growing and learning who Lisa really is!

 

 

You can read more entries submitted to Judith Heartsong's Why I Keep a Journal essay contest here!