To remedy this, I have decided to spend at least an hour a week to do so. Hopefully it will be understandable and genuine to myself, when I eventually stumble back to see who I was, and to anyone who may come across this.
I sorely regret ignoring my need for expression for all these years. I don't know why I tend to ignore this aspect of myself in favor of distractions. If I at least kept up this journal in the last 5 years I would have had reminders of myself and maybe a fragment of an answer. I exist but I tend to forget how to live. I tend to forget a lot of things.
I am lucky to be who I am. I should not squander that. I will not.