I figure I should write about this experience, partly out of a duty to record the precious moments of my life and but mostly out of a desire to see whether my mind can still construct coherent, non-gluttoral phrases of thought after so many months of abuse and disuse.
I have a coping mechanism that prevents me from expressing extreme emotion. Or, rather, I've become good at repression. As a result, while I am able to reign in my emotions during stressful situations, I can't fully express how I should feel during joyous ones.
Still, I found myself jumping up and down, hugging my mom like crazy, and calling everyone I knew who cared. Somehow I feel like I should have been happier. It hasn't sunk in yet.
