by Tracey Metzger
I picked up my journals and thumbed through them. It wasn’t long before I came across a page that had words of unexplained sadness scribbled out. Words of confusion and frustration exposed my desire to hide. After reading an entry my eyes would drift to the top of the page. September. October. Entries full of melancholy expression had these months in common. Interesting. How could there be such a pattern year after year without me noticing?
Did it matter now that I knew? Yes, it did. Now, I could be prepared. Now, I would feel less blindsided. Knowledge is power.