Life is really complicated when you're 18.
That's what I've learned from this blog series. A History of Sleepwalking is a snapshot of an emotionally dense and complicated teenager, a person who seems almost a stranger to me now. I don't know about you, but I find that as I get older, the world appears more and more multi-faceted, nuanced, and layered, while my little life grows smaller and simpler.
It's comforting to wake up to be more or less the same person every day. Even though I'm constantly changing — and nothing scares me more than the prospect of becoming stagnant — my growth is linear. Each day starts with the same struggles, right where I left them. And it's nice that I can count on that, you know?
No matter how hard things get, I can always look back on the path that I'm on and be reassured by how far I've come. If I could make it through all that, I can do anything.
That's what I'd like to tell the Sleepwalker now— that even though the world outside is terrifying and ugly, the things inside her are not.
The Sleepwalker is beautiful.
I think I can admire her for what she is and close the book on that chapter of my life.