I came across my old livejournal account the other day. I managed to lose hours of time reading about what my 16 and 17 year old self had to say about life. Did I really think like that? I said that? I let people read that?! I’m not too much older than that now. I’m 22, but I’m an old soul. Finding that, combined with my therapist’s suggestion to use writing as a coping skill, brought me here.
I thought it would be neat to write here, anonymously. Anyone could read it if they chose to, and those that do would probably know me better than anyone else in my universe, but they wouldn’t quite know who I am. I have it in my head that someday I’ll give the web address out to people I care about, maybe sooner rather than later. I’m not comfortable with that quite yet.
I have tried to keep a diary for most of my life. I have handwritten diaries dating as far back as my 8th birthday, but they are spontaneously written and never full. My grandmother wrote in a diary every day. When she passed away we were left with boxes upon boxes of notebooks depicting her life from her own eyes. I’ve never been able to do that! I think that writing online is easier. Typing is faster than the meticulous cursive that I write in. I can cut, paste, and change things with a few keystrokes instead of an erasor or white-out.
I probably won’t write here every day. I’ll just write here whenever I feel like it. Probably I’ll write while I’m sitting in my office at work. I work the overnight shift, so I have a lot of downtime. I’ll most likely talk about my secrets, fears, challenges, and accomplishments. I’ll certainly discuss my struggles with mental and physical illness. There will be plenty about my struggle with my identity, sexual or otherwise. More of that in the beginning, probably. Then it might just become a record of my daily life to go back to and reflect on.
