It has been a long time since I wrote a blog in the dawning light. I woke with some potent images about and around the fringes of my mind. I have been going through some intense physical struggles recently, of which I wont get into the details, however, that always spurs some mental and emotional difficulty for me, being one that deals with mental illness.

A lot of my reflection has been about my teenage self as of late. In a way, I feel like an oversized teenager. My growth was stunted by major trauma in my late teens, consisting of not only a psychotic break at 18. I have often reflected throughout my many years of healing, how I wished I could “reach” that younger personality, and how I felt very cut off from my younger self who was developing into a woman. Several other psychotic breaks throughout my life created several other shamanic “death doors” that added to this difficulty (in the sense that time CAN but is not always linear) of reaching into the identity and struggles of my teen years. I feel this is important healing that must take place; to find the person who was coming into being before my illness came about in its entirety. I have reached that place in my healing as of late. I have processed and journaled and blogged and painted and prayed and meditated and talk therapied my way into accessing my teen years.

I was a difficult teenager. But they say the best dogs are terrible puppies. This of course is meant to make me feel better about all the wrong I was a part of. Underneath all of the drinking and drugging and stealing, most of which I got away with unharmed and un-detained, was a brilliant young girl who cared immensely for art, children and the environment. But yes, I was a notoriously difficult teen. In ways I remained respectful, always calling home to report where I was, raising different children in our posh neighborhood, and developing deep passion for monkeys, children, the earth, music and poetry, and human and indigenous rights. I suppose a more compassionate view would be that I was a very complex young human. Life was immensely rich and I was fully participating. Life and I were anything but dull.

When I came about being able to reflect on myself at this age, I was overcome with grief. Being a teenager; in love and breaking a heart, healing from an eating disorder on my own, awakening to the oppression and cruelty in the world and wanting desperately to change and affect the world for the better, was incredibly difficult and complicated. I am blessed to live in a small community, to attend a couple different worship groups, and to volunteer at the Library, and I am getting to know and witnessing a few young teenagers blossoming in this small community. Some, I even taught and guided when they were in pre-school. I am craving to dive into the mind of that age group. I am craving to know and heal that young thirteen through fifteen year old within myself. I was so precious and innocent, though I saw myself as old and regal. I just want to rest there for a short time and revel in who I was and who I was becoming. I want to send love to that young blossoming woman. Coming of age is so magnanimous. It also can be incredibly painful.

I want to say, “I see you” to these young kids. For being so cut off from my inner teenager for so many years, it rests inside of me with incredible bright clarity and precision. Maybe I will never grow up. Perhaps I am not meant to. (I am not meant to bear children.) Perhaps this is what makes me special. That once I am fully able, I can remember in my bones and hair follicles this very potent age because I lived it so fully and was so fully aware. Life has not been easy. There has been so much difficulty and pain. But for every ounce of pain I learned something. I felt something. I became Alive.