Dread

As I mentioned before, last Monday in New York City, my friend Adina brought me all the letters that I wrote to her when I moved from Romania to Canada in 1986-1987. At first, I was really excited. I hoped to share them with the rest of the family, so they could get to know that part of me, what I was like before I became acculturated here.

But reading through some of them on the train back from NYC, after seeing Adina, was much different than I expected. I was not ready for the feelings they brought up. I was crying on the train, and then, next morning, speaking to Sena about them, I was crying again. I did not touch them since. I actually dread looking at them now.

They bring up something akin to a dead zone in me. I'm afraid to go there again. I know I have to. I know it will help me explain a lot of other things. But I just feel like I'm hurling myself into this lonely, unfriendly void.

I will get the courage to read them and soon. If not for myself, then at least for Sena and Aiyana. They need to know my story which is part of their own story.

I don't want my parents to worry about me, reading this post. Just know that it helps me to share my feelings here, in a sort of impersonal way. I'm okay and I know that dealing with whatever's going on will help me in the long run.

I'm also hoping that sharing the hard feelings, will help not only me, but maybe someone else as well. We all have areas which we need to face, but dread to, and so, if you're facing your own dread, I just want you to know that you're not alone. I love the idea of using our obstacles to help each other.

Onwards!

Peace