||[Jul. 6th, 2015|03:36 am]
I haven't used this in a couple years, but lately I've been getting the urge to write again. A couple months ago, I was digging through some old boxes (which has been happening a lot lately, I'll get to that in another entry) when I came across several small notepads. Most were blank, a few had doodles from my childhood. But one, a dinosaur notepad, stood out from the rest.|
It was a journal of sorts, written in my trademark sloppy handwriting. There were only a few entries, but they provided a window into my mind for a few months during a very rough period of my life. The entries were from around 1990, when my parents moved us from our home on the outskirts of the northeast side of the city, to a suburb even further out to the northeast. Moving is never easy on kids, but I think young children and teens have it a lot easier than kids in the 10-12 age group where I was.
To say I had a tough time making friends would be a massive understatement. The one friend I did make turned out to be a manipulative, backstabbing liar, and although he made my life miserable, he was all I had until I was about 13.
It wasn't so much what I wrote, but the act of reading these nearly illegible entries flipped some kind of switch in my mind, and brought a lot of those feelings flooding back. Not so much specific incidents, but the general feeling of that era. Rejection, exclusion, loneliness, hopelessness... These had all been buried for decades, and here they were once again.
A few days later, I found yet another set of journal entries, this time from high school. They were for a lame class project where I was supposed to "write about my day" every day for the entire school year. That would be easy, except that it was an assignment that had to be turned in, and I don't think I need to explain that only a small percentage of what's on the mind of a teenager is really fit for handing in to the teacher. I mean hell, look at all the teens that get in trouble over the shit they post online these days! Aside from access to better technology, the teens of today are no different from the way I was, but in my case I wasn't about to share any of that with my teacher.
So those entries are as boring as possible and hopelessly generic. "I was almost late for the bus today. It rained all the way to school." That's basically what they all consist of. Even so, once again the feelings came flooding back. And as before, the experience wasn't exactly positive. High school was better than junior high and middle school, but it still wasn't easy.
But in both cases, I worked through... whatever the hell it was that it dredged up. I get it, I'm damaged. Hell, when I read back at my entries on here from a decade ago, I can't help but laugh at how messed up I sound. It's a wonder I found anyone on here to take me seriously back then, but perhaps they were all just as damaged as I was? I don't know. I do know that there was one person, a female, who I freaked out pretty bad. I thought she was a cool person and I remember her telling me where she worked, and one day I decided to stop by and say hello in person. Bad idea, I know... She reacted about how you'd expect, and I don't blame her. Not that she'll ever read this, but I'm sorry for being a fucking weirdo. Like those entries in that dinosaur notepad, I was a sad and lonely kid. I meant no harm, but you had no way of knowing that. Anyway, again I'm sorry.
So where am I going with all of this mental vomit? Like I said, I think I'm going to start writing again. After reading those old entries, I wish I had even more written material for who I was during that time. And while I can't go back in time, one thing I can do is write about the here and now. 36 may not be as interesting of an age as 10-12, age 16, or even the mid 20s of my early LJ writings, but it's something.