Mentally Challenging

It seems to be that every time I find the motivation to actually write in my blog, it's always in relations to some sort of memory that I've had from my experience in Nauru.

It was one of the more bizarre times in my life and I think as a result, anyone who has experienced something like that is left with a scraping in their mental state, similar to someone who trips over and scrapes their knee, I suppose.

On Sunday, I had an important phone call from a friend that brought all those memories back in graphic detail.  It was a phone-call I appreciated and one which left me reminiscing about my time in Nauru.  But the emotion just sort of hit me like a brick - it was too much to take in and with some new information I found myself thinking of that phone-call for many hours after and in my spirit, a heaviness seemed to settle in my spirit, one which I'd forgotten or thought I'd shaken, one which cast a sadness in my soul.

This experience in Nauru is one which will haunt me for the rest of my life.  I'll never shake it and just when i think i have, it'll hit me again, like an open flood-gate.  In some ways, I'm grateful for the reminder because I never want to become so hardened to the things which the world is suffering, that I forget - because if i do, I might stop fighting for important causes, for human rights, for the lives of human beings that haven't been as fortunate to grow up in a society of freedom.

But the purpose of this blog is not to cry and mope and remain in a state of sadness.

A few years ago, i got into scrap-booking (actually i didn't get into it at all, i merely thought it was something fun).  Last week i finished up my job and took down some pics i had of my friends.

There's a lot out there about Asylum Seekers, particularly in regards to their personal details and photos.  But when I was taking down a personal photo that I have treasured, i felt that it's important for me to remember my time in Nauru.  So I've decided, as a personal keepsake - not for anyone elses viewing, to scrapbook my experience.  So that I remember the positivity that I brought to the men detained there, to remember how nice they were to me and the people that I will consider my friends for eternity.

Like I said, there will never be complete closure, at times, my mind and heart will wander and sometimes I'll probably cry but a scrapbook will help me to understand that the time i spent there was real.  The work i carried out there was not in vain and the memories that i have experienced really happened.