i guess this is a diary
i'm always on my bullshit
i’m better at organizing and expressing my thoughts in writing than i am out loud. i get flustered and shy when i have something to say but i can’t figure out how to say it. i’m not good at thinking quickly, snapping back in an argument, making my feelings coherent. if i keep things inside for too long, the smallest things set me off and it all overflows and spills out at the same time. i cry, i scream, i say fuck and goddammit a lot.
being in therapy has helped me with this. sometimes i wonder if i’m wasting my time and money, because i’m painfully self aware already. i’ve had way too much time to think, so i know myself pretty well. i catch patterns and call myself out for being dramatic and dumb. i recognize when i’m thinking something about myself that isn’t true. i still make mistakes. i’m still fixing my self esteem and self image. i still have trauma that isn’t ever going to fully go away. therapy has helped me learn to express myself in a healthy, direct way and stand up for myself.
i don’t write only to figure out what i think, i write to figure out how i think. why i think. how to think. how to be creative. how to be better. i write to get the things that make me anxious out of my brain, to remember the good parts, to calm myself down, to make sense of things, to let myself sit with things that make me happy. i’ve journaled sporadically since i was 12, and it’s always been important to me. writing is a safe space for me, a level of privacy i haven’t always had. so much of my life and my self has had to be open to other people; i often feel exposed, physically and emotionally. when people read through my things the response i’ve gotten is that they learned a lot. they didn’t know i felt that way. they didn’t know how much i pay attention and understand. that’s the point; let me share on my terms.
i don’t think the person i am in a journal or diary or any piece of writing is my truest self. i think it’s the version of myself that wants to learn and grow. it helps me become myself. it’s a reflection of how my past selves became my current self and how i want to continue. sometimes it’s written well but it’s probably just coincidence and luck. most of the time it’s extra and cringe and rambling and maybe even sad? it’s a first draft, unfiltered and unedited, boundary pushing, dreaming, yearning, wanting to metaphorically touch grass.
i probably overshare; there are some things i regret and want to wipe from existence and make everyone forget. there are some choices i don’t want to make again. i do set some boundaries. but i don’t think being vulnerable and sharing parts of myself is necessarily a mistake. after all, what’s it all for if not to connect with each other and see ourselves progress in whatever way that means for us?
mostly i just throw things at the wall and hope something sticks, hope someone understands what i mean or at least empathizes, hope someone cares even a little bit. even if no one reads it, i’m still learning and growing so it’s not for nothing.