Why this blog exists
Over the course of my lifetime, I have fairly consistently haphazardly kept some sort of journal, especially starting around middle school. To be certain, there are pages and pages of my writing from when I was a sub-double digit age status and not a single notebook I wanted to romantically turn into a diary like my favorite characters had was actually ever filled. When I was around 12, I got a crush on my best friend, G, at the same time as my other best friend, S. When S asked him out before I could work up the courage to do anything similar, I had so many prepubescent emotions roiling around me that I had to get them out somehow and the best way I could think of was to vent into a 5-subject spiral notebook that had been completely unused before that point.
That stupid spiral notebook is one of my prized possessions now, detailing out the turbulent ups and downs of my life from that point on until I graduated high school.The entries exist in fits and bursts, to the point that my entire junior year of high school is missing from within its pages, the absence of it pointing towards that being one of the best years I spent in grade school. Rereading it, I can see an almost comical difference between finishing middle school and the jump to being two months into high school. It is textbook depression and anxiety with such memorable quotes as “I don’t want to do anything, everything is pointless, and this is just teenage angst that everyone feels and means nothing.” The whole thing is crusty with old tears and snot, whole sentences blurred and blotted as the author clearly worked through the nightmare in her head and I love every square inch of it for the time capsule that it is for me.
I think my favorite part is the puddles of dried nail polish on the front from where I was clearly bored and wanted to see the pretty colors go and experimented with how long they would take to dry. They’re very pretty.
But, the older I’ve gotten, the less I’m able to keep a single journal. I’ll throw a personal post into the deluge of nonsense that is my old Tumblr here and there but I don’t have an easy way to keep all my thoughts in one place and frankly I have the hubris to think they’re worth keeping in one place at all that won’t burn up in a house fire. I’ll probably end up waxing about the pros and cons of digital vs. analog whatevers in a future entry.
But for now? I’m tired, I have too many thoughts, and navigating a semi-adult sphere while still feeling 19 is mind-numbing to the point I want to cry whenever my mother accurately suggests I should probably find a therapist again. For now, I’ll rely on my happy pills and a place to write everything down comfortably to get through the night.