I missed a couple months of writing in my hand-written journal. I'm back to it now; but I wrote fewer pages (61) in a year than I normally write in a three month season. I need to write about today on page 5,235 of this letter to my friend.
I have been fasting and trying to post daily introspections here.
Vivacious, Things always look and seem better in spring. I to have to push myself to write, I do not write as often as I should. It prompts me to have special people to write to, My Grandsons and Granddaughters. Pick someone dear to you to write too, It give the writing purpose....
Kåre Enga 🇹🇭 Udon Thani: That’s so sad. Being the optimist that I am, though, and judging by the adventures you’ve shared over the years with all your traveling and meeting new people, I’d say you bloomed quite nicely.
My parents sheltered me. Of course, I was very withdrawn and 'hid' so that didn't help. I was frightened of anyone my age and avoided them. I was neither self-reliant nor independent. I was clueless when I went to university and suffered for my ignorance. But... I did start to bloom, until an early frost nipped me in the bud when I was 21. It's been needlessly rough all my life because I still withdraw and hide.
Whether it's abuse or neglect it's the same thing, a lack of good parenting skills.