MAY 1

• I repeatedly told myself, "I love you." Over and over and over and over and over and over. So that it's meaning will course through me. So that it's meaning can reach me.
• It was lovely, warm and comforting, to be told, "I love you," and feel what it means.

MAY 2

• I'm scared of using my voice because I assumed I won't be heard. I assumed no one will listen or my voice won't reach them anyway. I let my words and voice dissolve whenever I was filled with anger, rage, hurt, or pain. In turn, this may have carried over being afraid to use my voice to express gratitude, joy, and love.
• Today, I acknowledge and embrace that part of me whose voice I feared using nor listening to. I love you.
• I repeatedly feel guilty for staying in Taytay for too long. I worry, "What if they need me?"_ and I won't be there and I will be resented. I worry I will be resented for taking my time to be away, to rest, to retreat from the rest of the world. I worry I will be resented for not being available. (This reminds me of how tough it is to say 'No' directly.)
  • Yet deep within me, the urge to retreat. To hide from the world. To tune down all that is happening and just be in my cave. In my silence. To hear, to listen to the beat of my heart and just know and feel and realize, it's still there. It's still beating. I'm alive. I'm still me. I'm still in here! And it is me who is showing up to the world.