I don't want to be another extension in the long line of "lacking in emotional expression and openness" lineage that characterizes my family history, I think, as the most salient heritable trait. And when I say heritable, I am acknowledging that psychosocial tendencies are passed along from generation to generation just as much as DNA is.

During the therapy session I attended the other day, the therapist brought to my attention that I am clearly logical and less emotionally expressive than my friend (girlfriend I just broke up with). And today, after visiting my mentally deteriorating grandmother at her group home, I asked my mom how my grandma had felt about something (regarding when she was still all together). My mom said, as she has said many times about her parents, that they never shared how they felt about things. They did not talk about feelings. Ever. At all. Which sounds extreme -- because it is. I can see how this effected my mom in some ways, and how (although the examples she set were the norms for me) this has prevented her from being as emotionally expressive and open as she could be. I then must examine myself, and I am -- I wonder how emotionally closed off I am as a descendant of generations of people with closed doors.

How closed are my doors?
Am I even aware of the doors that are closed? Because these are my norms, my reality, my habits, my schemas, my frames, etc.

I want to find out.
I want to be as OPEN as possible in this life that I have.
I want to repress nothing.
I want freedom.

I GOT THE TEACHING ASSISTANT POSITION TOO!!

birdtanktop.tumblr.com

I got the Research Assistant position in the most interesting & impressive psychology lab at the college!

It never stops.

It's as if all the pieces were obliterated, yet they remain alive and lit up like little pieces of the sun - as separated and scattered as they are, they're just aching to be re-assembled and mended.

There isn't a day that passes that this doesn't escape my mind.

I don't know how much longer this is going to last.

It climbed like vines, eagerly and effortlessly, and it became the most inextricable tangled knot. It set me on fire like none other, and the glowing coals threaten to burn down my home. It snowballed and remains the most unmovable mountain.

Very brief summaries of my dreams as of late:

1. Dog driving a car
2. Dream within a dream; trapped inside 28 Weeks Later
3. Fight with a hummingbird that had a wolf's head



03:45 - end... Go, Lindsey! Awesome.