6 Things I Learned From Re-Reading My Diary

This isn’t my real journal. You didn’t really think I’d let you see it, did you?

Sometimes I daydream about disappearing. Not in a harmful way. Just a “The Leftovers”-esque fade to air particles type of way.

It’s something I’ve been daydreaming about since I was a kid and used to tell no one but my journal. I would “run away” to my parents’ side porch, hide under a pile of heavy blankets and challenge myself to stay there for as long as I possibly could. Long enough to see their reaction, to feel like it mattered that I was gone without really being gone at all.

I’ve been daydreaming about disappearing more and more lately. I’m sure I’m not alone.

I hope it goes without saying I have no real intentions of actually running away but I can’t help but feel that if the world were my old porch blankets they’d be heavy enough to hold many of us down right now. I’ve never had fewer answers to as many questions as I have lately. I’ve been craving somewhere to turn, some sort of relief. I needed some perspective, a voice of reason, the voice of a teenager. A teenage me.

What better way to make you feel like all is right around you than to reminisce about the trivial things that seemed to mean everything to you at another point in time? To read about the situations that crumbled you and then to realize you somehow crawled through the ashes and still remain here, breathing, to this day.

There’s no more personal object in my life, no more meaningful, handheld possession, than my sweet, leather-bound black book. I carefully curated every one of its gorgeously imperfect pages using ONLY black ink, poured my full soul into it, and wet its lines with my tears on more occasions than I can count. Through it I stewed and stirred over situations minute to monumental… but mostly minute.

And so, to feel just a little relief and to share that feeling with you, I relive some of my most expressive lines from entries so incredibly, embarrassingly silly I can’t bear to share them in their entirety.

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1.) I’ve Always Been Dramatic

You should know that I quoted Taking Back Sunday in the last line of this entry of heartbreak. I quoted Dashboard Confessional in the entry before this and I feel like that says more than any commentary I could make.

2.) I’ve Always Fought for What I Believe In… Even When It Didn’t REALLY Matter

Well, I was right. 10 years later I definitely do not remember this fight or the friends I was fighting with. But I’m glad I confronted those sneaky liars.

3.) Death Has Always Been My Biggest Fear. And desk-writing.

I don’t even know what this means.

4.) Cafe Closings Are Soul-Crushing to Me

The Grind was this little coffee shop in Denville—but it was MORE than just a coffee shop, with antique couches and live bands. It was one of the most peaceful settings in my world. I liked to think of it as my escape.

In 2003–2004, I was apparently very concerned with what would be happening in 10 years. Now 10+ years later, I’m a little concerned with why I was so concerned. But I do remember The Grind and some vivid memories of being there. It really was a wonderful place.

5.) I Didn’t Think This Whole Internet Writing Thing Was Going to Work Out

I personally don’t believe in it at ALL. It defeats the purpose of writing it if you’re letting everyone read it. I wouldn’t want everyone reading the stories of my personal life.

Anyways, the reason I’m writing right now is actually for a pretty stupid reason…

There are so many reasons to love this entry starting with how much my career has evolved around digital content. But I love this post mostly because I go on to trash the meaninglessness of online journaling only to disclaim that what follows in my written journal is essentially meaningless.

The rest of the entry was all about how I “hate everyone” besides my three best friends.

6.) Age is But a Construct

Sometimes I consider myself young because I do that, but other times I feel like I am throwing myself into a life where I am forced to grow up before my time.

Based on this, I can’t decide if I’m currently young or old. I KNOW I am not a teenager anymore.

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I will never fully remember the feelings behind these pages, the meaning behind the words, or how deeply I felt the emotions when I wrote them. But there’s something so comforting about visiting where you were, considering where you are, and imagining how much the journey has set you up for where you’re ultimately going.

Today I’m imagining 10 years from now, revisiting these words while stripping heavy blankets off me on my own side porch.

I like to write for fun, but mostly for sanity. By day I'm a Senior Digital Strategist. By night I'm a non-laundry-folding mom.

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