Leah Q. Adult-in-Training

          I began writing this blog almost four years ago. It wasn’t something I started consciously. It was a random idea to conceptualize the ideas I had amassed in my head. My feelings, my experiences, and opinions were all organized into an essay-like format that gave me some semblance of organization. It’s a platform I use to talk about myself and people who have proven to be important sources of motivation in my life. It will forever be my online journal; something I choose to do when I’m trying to make sense of my life. Any time I go through something complicated this is where I write it all down. I think at times I censor my thoughts and my experiences because sometimes I think it’s too much. Do I really want everyone to know these parts of me? Then again isn’t this supposed to be the place where I write for no one else? It’s the contradicting idea of self that I continuously battle with. At what point is it too much?             I guess this intro is my decision in a sense.

          Grief, it’s this many-pronged enigma that I and many other people have had trouble defining.   Over the years though you come to realize how hard it is to properly define a concept. Something as immaterial as a feeling is difficult to put into a box.             Having things organized is this important concept for me; it’s how I get through my life every day. I schedule, I think things through, and I make lists. Normally to look at the state of my room you see a visual of what the inside of my head looks like. Laundry strewn everywhere, a massive candle collection, coupled with a vanity from hell is my everyday life. There are times when I obsessively clean everything; it’s normally when guests come over if I’m being honest with myself but, if you think about it this comparison is a literal personification of my headspace.             I try to have everything organized, to put my feelings in this neat little box. A pristine cleverly decorated box and yet I’ve never bee