Through My Eyes (Nora Keshk, Visionaries)

Through My Eyes

Dear Journal,

I hate writing…I think – but that doesn't mean I won't tackle this challenge. My therapist gave me not-so simple instructions today. He handed me this journal, looked me straight in the eyes, with a sense of pride of the idea he had came up with, gave me a pat on the back, and ushered me out of his office saying "At the end of every day, right before you go to sleep, write about your day. It can be your thoughts, experiences, hopes, aspirations, jokes, opinion of your own self, or things you want to tell me. Next time I see you, you'll hand me this journal, and we'll read sections of it together discussing your emotions that exact time. Some people your age find it difficult to 'relive emotions.' Good luck."

So I suppose I should be writing directly to you, Dr. Elliot, but the only way I'll be able to express all my emotions is if I let my writing do all the talking not like I'm writing to you. I have to admit that it's kind of hard to not got through this and edit it a bit – I think myself as a bit of a perfectionist.

So Dr. Elliot, I'm leaving what you told me earlier today as the explanation of this journal. And anyone who finds this, which is over my dead body, won't be confused by my depressingly sarcastic handwriting. I know I'm not supposed to write to you anymore. Goodbye Dr. Elliot. Hello Journal.

I've tried writing in journals before, but it never worked out the way I wanted it to. I have big hopes for this one; I'm going to fill it. Will Dr. Elliot give me another one then? I hope so. I think he knows everything about me, but I haven't told you anything about me yet.

I've been going to therapy for over a year now, yet I'm still scared to reveal things about myself to other people. There are things that I'm not comfortable to say out loud or even write down. Maybe I'll get the courage one day to write more about myself and talk more. However, let me start by my outer appearance.

I'm short. I have blonde (more light brown) hair that goes down to about my hips. I have a nose that points up a little bit too much. I dance currently. Some think I'm skinny, but I see myself as "fit". I normally wear jeans and sweatshirts; I'm not one of those perfectly dressed, well-behaved, idealistic girls. If you saw me in the hallway, you would laugh in my face, make a short joke, or just pretend you didn't see me. It's safe to say that I have acquaintances, but my best friend is nowhere to be found.

Oh, and I almost forgot, my name Abigail. No last name, I like things to be on a first basis.