I have a past, I really do.

Two years ago, my laptop was stolen. My compy was my diary, my photo album and my record of life and it was gone. I mourned the loss of my past for a while and then moved on, what more could I do? I knew I had burned a few CD's of information from my old compy but I was scared to go digging. What if I found nothing important on those CD's? What if they just reinforced the fact that I have nothing but a few blog entries to attest to the fact that I indeed did live and experience life from 2001-2005.

Just now, for the first time in three years, I have relived my past through pictures and journals. I dug up those CD's and they contained a lot more than I thought. I walked back through my first few years in Korea; my apartment, my students, my friends, the hikes, the baptism, the snow days, the floods, the birthdays.

But instead of happy reminiscent thoughts I feel sad. I can't quite put my finger on it... why would I be sad thinking about really good times? Is it because the good days are gone and I'm just trying to survive today? But that's not really true because my life is pretty good now, too.

The circumstances under which I left Korea were extremely difficult for me. I had to sell or give away everything I owned and the things I left behind to collect a year all molded... including photo albums and journals. Strange that just a year later my computer with all my remaining photo albums and journals would be stolen.

It strikes me as I write that an attempt has been made to steal my past from me. Everything really valuable I owned gone in the space of a year. And then, in fear that my past was really gone, I stopped looking back.

In my brain, I've realized that I create boxes for different phases of life. There's the me in Korea and the me now. There's the me of college and the me of high school. I think I forget that all those me's really are a part of me. I don't integrate me into myself very well, especially when I go through major life changes. I've lost contact with almost all my high school, college and Korea friends. I've unintentionally disassociated myself from those experiences.

What a shame. It's doesn't strike me as being very healthy....

It's a pattern. I wonder where it came from, I wonder why it's there. And it will continue unless I get to the bottom of it, but how can I?