The Puffy Face Chronicles

I look in the mirror and I am torn as to who I should acknowledge. Do I acknowledge the past me, and if so, which past self do I choose?

What parts of ourselves change and why? And above all, do we accept and move forward after having done unspeakable things?

My puffy face poses no answers to my endless questions.

Am I the girl who dropped out of college and ended up in a mental hospital?

No, let me rephrase: I AM the girl who dropped out of college and ended up in a mental hospital.

When we lose sight of ourselves, do we lose everything we had previously stood for, and then, what do we stand for?

I wonder if we change in linear ways, or if our personalities are like tacs on a bulletin board, with pins connecting each thought, belief, and trait in random, criss-crossed ways.

I am torn between being the girl who is self-aware and the girl who is comfortable being who she is.

I thought recently about a date I had a couple years ago, where the guy told me: you're not vacant like the other girls.

And then he proceeded to try to take advantage of me.

What, in these moments, do we choose to believe? Am I not vacant? Or was that a line?

I am torn as whether to look in the mirror and file my thoughts away into mental oblivion, or to see instead a good piece of writing that deserves a closer read.