I am a packrat. I keep everything, everything that I have ever drawn, written, read, created, and destroyed whatever I keep it. I have looked over my writings of the past two years and I am amazed that I wrote most of these things. I read over fears, pain, and love and of course loss. Sometimes I don’t believe that I am myself when I write. I really think that there is some other being who takes control of my body, my mind when I write or draw. It is not that I am extraordinary at either but my words have life to them. I had almost forgotten the pain of heartbreak of almost two years ago, forgot about those seemingly all consuming worries of years past. I never knew that when I wrote about my fears and pain that I could look back on those days and say “that was nothin’.”

I have written about my past hurts, about the tragedies that have plagued my family and health: it is a wonder that I am still alive. I never knew that we could live through so much. I never knew that the human spirit, the human body could go through so much and still survive, hell still thrive even.

I am not the same girl I was in fall of 2006, and boy am I happy about that. I am not taller-alas- my height has not progressed since 2005 but I am different. I have seen true pain. I have lost real family members; I have been truly frightened for my life and for others. I have also experienced true joy, true peace and a firm understanding that running away from life does not fix it. Running away from those who care does not make the pain fade. Took almost four years but I am learning. I can’t run from pain because pain has a sadistic tendency for finding you no matter where you run or hide.

I am not going to run anymore. I am not going to bemoan my situation or pity myself over meaningless things. It is not important whether or not a get an A in a class or if a guy likes me. It is not important, my family, my friends are important, I am important.

The past months have been trying, horrific, terrible, and almost unbearable but I survived. I don’t know how and I don’t know why but I have continued to survive, I do not curl up and die, the world does not end, I don’t know how but we live. And now with yet another medical trial in my families’ near future I know that we will survive. There is this hope inside of me that constantly tells me not to give up, never to stop, that everything will be alright.

I may lament at times and focus on the negative aspects of life but I am going to try not to do that from now on. Because worrying about the future does not change it, it only changes the present, and the present is where we should live.

So thank you. Thank you all who have not given up on me. Thank you all who have not written me out of your life. I am back, and I am gonna live.