Full Disclosure: I got my second vaccine shot last week, and it hit me hard. I was feverish and miserable for two days. And I'm still exhausted and anxious from the whole thing. But it is better than getting the virus and potentially getting a blood clot due to one of my assorted weird health issues.
I'm also still emotionally reeling from the anniversary of leaving high school. I'm continuing to dive into old memories, conversations, and papers from back then. And for the most part, it honestly makes me feel better. There's some solid proof that I was there.
I was there... I was there... I was there...
It's not just a dream. It's not just a story I told myself about another lifetime. I was part of those schools. I was a part of those people's lives, even in some tiny, forgettable way. Because sometimes, in this "life" I have now, I don't feel real. I feel like I'm fading away. Like my reality gets lost in vivid dreams and stories. I know who I am almost completely. But I'm not sure that I exist outside of myself. Or at least, how.
Do people really know who I am? Do they care? What parts of me are people picking up on? Which ones do they have no idea about? I try to be completely open and honest whenever I can. I feel like I bare my soul at any possible occasion. But there are still parts of me I'm not sure how to share, for fear of rejection or being misunderstood.
This got more depressing than I intended. But that's the thing about being vulnerable. You have to show the dark with the light. I released a book that was extremely vulnerable and hard to share with the world. And now, I'm tired.
I'm processing. I'm grieving. Remembering the past with equal parts of anguish and gratitude. I can't trade the life I was given. The pain I carried. I have to accept that. Over and over again. For the rest of my life.