Diary of a Christian Girl

Psychology Vol.2

Some people say that the past is what makes us stronger, they say that without the past you would not be who you are now. Many people are afraid of the future, me, I'm afraid of the past. The future is uncertain, but the past haunts you, like a shadow on your back that won't let you rest.

"-Remember: you can't change, forget, edit or erase the past, what you can do is accept it.-"

My grandmother was always a very wise woman, she understood me, she was like a second mother to me, those words were the last ones she said to me before she left. But how to accept the past?  

Memory, the most treacherous friend I have, sometimes her stories are beautiful, like soft melodies, beautiful memories of things I don't want to forget, like the lyrics of a song, the names of my favorite movies or my favorite people. But sometimes, her stories darken, she becomes my enemy, reminding me again and again of those things that happened, that I did wrong, the indelible things, things that no matter how hard I try, they won't go away.

There I am, sitting on a couch in Claudia's apartment, her soft voice trying to ask me how my week went, Good? Bad? Does it really matter? Does it really matter what one more patient she sees in her apartment thinks? Is it really going to help me at all to tell a stranger what I think?

-I'm fine-That was the only thing I could express, not because it's true, but because I don't want to tell her that I feel empty, that I feel forgotten, that the feeling of invisibility and loneliness that I used to have and that I thought I had overcome is suffocating me more and more every day.

-How is your new school going, have you already started?-

-I just went to get to know it the other day, next week I start classes.-

-And how do you feel? Did you meet anyone?- 

-Well, a boy showed me around the school.- Do you want to know the truth? How do you think I feel after being thrown into a school for different kids who can't live on their own? How do you think it feels not being able to see your new school, not knowing what colors it has or where things are? Well I can tell you it's horrible, I wish I didn't have to go there, I wish I didn't have to put up with Noah who probably feels sorry for me and that's why he's helping me get to know the school, and I wish that I don't have to abandon my friends and my past life just because of a stupid accident.

-Well, I know you don't feel like talking, and I know it will be hard for you to tell me what's going on because you're not used to that, but I have an activity I need you to do.-

-I told you I'm not going to tell you anything.-

-I know, I just want you to do one thing for me, I know it's hard, but I need you to express everything you feel, and since you don't want to do it with me, I want you to make a diary, it can be through audios, or you can learn how to write on a computer in your condition, or you can dictate to the computer what you want to write, I just want you to write everything you feel in the day, it doesn't matter if it is very explicit, it doesn't matter if you talk about other people or yourself, tell your deepest secrets and unburden yourself there, if you want to show me, I will help you, if you want to tell me, I will also help you, and if you don't want to tell me anything, I will understand, but I need you to make that diary, do we have a deal?-

A diary, do I look 5 years old? Although it doesn't seem like a very conventional idea, I think I'll do it, she's right, I need to get it off my chest somehow and I don't want to tell a stranger what I go through on a daily basis. I can dictate to my computer or my cell phone, what does it matter if it's not written well, what matters is that I can get it off my chest.

-Okay, but I won't promise anything.- 

Why am I afraid of the past if it is something that has already happened? There are people who overcome the past, who use what they have learned not to do it again and who remember the good things in life to make theirs even better. I can't do that, the past is there, I feel it, it's in my dreams, it's in everything I do.

There was the past, sitting in front of me in my living room, I can't see it, but I feel its presence like a terrifying box of surprises that is about to open. The past that smells of Vanilla, childhood and dreams fulfilled. That part of my past that has a name, her name is Brigette.

There she was, sitting in front of me, I can feel her gaze on me, I can imagine her sitting in her wheelchair with one hand on her chest, shaking her head, as if she had just seen a ghost or as if the Queen of England herself was standing in front of her.

I told her everything, saving me the specifics because that stuff has me tired already. I told her about the accident, the new school, Noah, Matias, and I tried to avoid naming Bella because she doesn't know I have a new best friend, but it was impossible because my mom mentioned pizza night with my TWO best friends, so I couldn't hide it for long. What I hate most about being blind is that I can't see people's reactions, that awkward silence where you can look a person in the eye and try to decipher what they are feeling, they are just moments of silence for me, where I don't know anything nor can I try to understand because I wouldn't make it.

Topic changes, are tools that help you when a topic is boring or uncomfortable, but when your ex-best friend uses them to evade the topic of your current best friend, they feel like very strong blows to the chest. We talked for a while, about her new family and how she's moving in with them in two weeks, how happy she is, how grateful she is to God for fulfilling her dream and answering her prayers, and how beautiful she thinks Bogotá is. Then she left my house.

The past can be a heavy weigh, tons of memories and feelings about you that only want to pull you down and not let you look to the future. As I lay in my bed that night, I tried to remember how happy I felt years ago, how happy I was in Santa Marta when I was just a little girl with no fear of anything, when I had a best friend who loved me and who I loved, I also remembered my happiness after meeting Bella and Mati, they made the changes feel like the hit of a pillow and not the hit of a car. I smiled. 

Then my enemy the memory came to bother, I remembered the nights I spent in my room or in my bathroom locked up crying, the times I felt like my heart was going to burst, the times that pain filled me to the depths of my soul making me miss every detail of my old life and hate my parents for making me come here. As I remembered that I just cried, when I finally found an outlet for my problems, when I finally had friends who appreciated me in this new place, when finally, after 5 years of suffering, I had found peace. A new problem the size of a giant came to ruin my life once again.

I cried and cried until my eyes dried up and I fell asleep thinking that tomorrow will be a better day.