Many days I find myself wandering, and wondering what I am doing and whether there is any real purpose to it.
Sometimes these journeys searching for my life take me far from home. Many of the times they have been clearly for nothing, and have just left me with the feeling of being further lost than when I started.
I keep searching for my life, and just can't let go of the idea that one day I will find me, and get to live that life that has been missing.
I read and study and talk and write about my search for my life. So often it seems pointless for me, but I stay inspired because I know I am slowly putting enough pieces together that I can help other damaged people suffering from severe trauma find their way back into the lives they were meant to have.
Being lost is lonely and pointless. Today I walked 7 miles along the beach and busy touristy streets, and did not really have a connection to it all. In fact, I had no idea I was even going to do it until I had done it. I still don't know why I did it.
My whole life I have been lost, and never meant to find my way. Living in confusion land protects me from feeling my pain, and the herds of people who abused me.
There are moments, though few and far between, in which I can reach through the depression and despair and believe I will find answers for myself and the others who come behind me.
We all deserve hope, but I realize sometimes it is just not there.
Each day I choose to wake, I know I still have a little hope. This little bit of hope keeps me searching for the answers for those of us who are lost and need to be found.
I am closer to the answer. Hang in there with me, and together we will find our missing lives.
The pieces to the puzzle are coming together. Have hope because I am going to put them together for us.
Then we will have life.