I’ve mentioned before that I’m writing some memoirs. At this stage they’re largely for my own use, so that I can process some stuff that’s going on for me, but today I found a diary, an online journal.
It has entries dating from May 2001 to September 2007 although most of the entries are from between 2001 and 2004.
I read over most of the entries today and it was an eye opening experience. It was strange, it sounds like me, but it sounds like an incomplete version of me. No doubt I’ll look back at this blog in a year or two and feel the same.
One or two of the entries match up with the stuff I’m writing about in my memoirs. I haven’t decided if I’m going to include the entries, where they match up in the final product or not. Maybe I will, they add an interesting perspective into what I was going through at the time, but they are also very raw.
This blog may seem raw and vulnerable to some of you and I’ve tried to be transparent, but it’s not raw. I think very carefully about what I tell the world here.
I didn’t have that same consideration when I was a kid. I just wrote what I felt, I wrote so that someone read it, some of the entries look like cries for help, or for attention, for someone to notice how sad I was. There is also an element of showing off, like was competing for the ‘most fucked up life’ award.
It’s funny how much we change. Reading my old journal is like talking to a stranger. A stranger I’m glad I don’t know anymore, she was not happy.
PS: I will be going to my 10 year highschool reunion next Saturday, we’ll see if other people have changed as much as I have.