Excerpt: Feeling It

From 7 Days:

Journal Entry: May 4, 2006

I may be intuitive in this world, but I know nothing of the world my parents exist in now.

I feel sad and angry. Sad for being left here without them, and angry that on some days there is nothing and no one to comfort me. I must suffer alone, bearing witness to my pain, as no one else can understand or console. No matter how hard they try, what words they use, they are of no use to me. All that is left is to mourn; I can only grieve now. This pain will not go away without suffering. This pain will linger if I neglect it, if I treat it with alcohol, if I ignore it and live my life as though nothing is wrong or nothing is missing. The only way to make the pain subside is to feel it in full.

This is my grief and mine alone to tend to, to nurture, to let go of.

Catharsis: "the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, [especially] through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music; discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition."

The only way to work through the pain, the anger, the sorrow, the grief, the denial was to actually feel it. Only by feeling these things, allowing these emotions to push their way through, could I let them go.  

The pit in my stomach that had been gradually rising up and through my heart, my lungs, my throat...I needed to feel that pit, understand that pit, and release that pit. Only by feeling my emotions would I be able to keep them from eating me alive.