First Entry
When I was younger, I kept a journal with fair regularity--usually I would write something at least once a week in the near-illegible block scrawl that covered my notebooks until the day I inexplicably developed elegant cursive (I still have no idea what suddenly went 'click' in my head and transformed my handwriting). I would chronicle all the misadventures and secret wishes a typical kid would have, ranging from imagining myself as one of those simpering cartoon heroines--the present me shudders at the fact that I used to think that Sailor Moon was a symbol of female empowerment, considering she's always being rescued by Tuxedo Mask--to complaints about overbearing parents, the pressures of schoolwork, and typical peer conflicts and pressure.
As I got older, I kept a blog. It's gone now--the host site disappeared--but I can still remember most of the contents. A lot about love and ranting and wondering where the hell God is when everybody's suffering. In those days, I was infamous for being the kid who would challenge you to prove that God exists and if he (or she) does, he or she is not, in fact, a giant gerbil. No wonder all my classmates thought I was either insane or an atheist.
Somewhere along the way social networks took over and I stopped writing. Sure, there were a lot of other factors, such as getting caught up in a ton of bloody schoolwork, and crazy family members searching for my blogs and such. But most of it was because blogging became increasingly lonely.
When I signed up for livejournal ages and ages ago (way back before I even had a good Internet connection), I didn't really intend to do anything with it. The purpose of it used to be simply as a placeholder, something that would allow me access to all the interesting communities; but not something I would write in, myself.
So why now? Why go back to keeping a blog?
Today I nearly had a panic attack over something which rationally I knew was nothing to worry about, that my friends repeatedly told me was probably just a mistake and would probably be corrected easily with no consequences (because the consequences--if they had come about--would have been catastrophic). And of course, they were right.
It's become a pattern. When I'm not caught up in something else, I find myself replaying mistakes in my head, or stressing over things I've already done that may or may not have been right, or even worrying about what comes next. I've tried a lot of techniques and outlets, but they're temporary at best and even more damaging at worst. I feel like I have too much room in my head, and everything is just rattling around in there trying to shove me over some kind of edge. Not a great testament to my sanity, but unfortunately true.
I've always wondered whether that holds true for all people, actually, and we just don't know it. I've also wondered whether this is the sort of thing responsible for the huge gaps in my memory I have from my childhood--blocking distressful memories isn't an uncommon coping mechanism, though I'd be far quicker to blame my forgetfulness. Don't get me wrong: I'm an average and fairly content person. I'm not mad (or if I am, I'd have to say that majority of the people I know also are), I'm not depressed or suicidal (though I'm prone to periods of melodrama--then again, who isn't? Particularly if one is a writer?). I just have too many thoughts I'd like to shut up or get rid of. And if blogging again helps me to do that, well, I'm willing to give it a shot.
As I got older, I kept a blog. It's gone now--the host site disappeared--but I can still remember most of the contents. A lot about love and ranting and wondering where the hell God is when everybody's suffering. In those days, I was infamous for being the kid who would challenge you to prove that God exists and if he (or she) does, he or she is not, in fact, a giant gerbil. No wonder all my classmates thought I was either insane or an atheist.
Somewhere along the way social networks took over and I stopped writing. Sure, there were a lot of other factors, such as getting caught up in a ton of bloody schoolwork, and crazy family members searching for my blogs and such. But most of it was because blogging became increasingly lonely.
When I signed up for livejournal ages and ages ago (way back before I even had a good Internet connection), I didn't really intend to do anything with it. The purpose of it used to be simply as a placeholder, something that would allow me access to all the interesting communities; but not something I would write in, myself.
So why now? Why go back to keeping a blog?
Today I nearly had a panic attack over something which rationally I knew was nothing to worry about, that my friends repeatedly told me was probably just a mistake and would probably be corrected easily with no consequences (because the consequences--if they had come about--would have been catastrophic). And of course, they were right.
It's become a pattern. When I'm not caught up in something else, I find myself replaying mistakes in my head, or stressing over things I've already done that may or may not have been right, or even worrying about what comes next. I've tried a lot of techniques and outlets, but they're temporary at best and even more damaging at worst. I feel like I have too much room in my head, and everything is just rattling around in there trying to shove me over some kind of edge. Not a great testament to my sanity, but unfortunately true.
I've always wondered whether that holds true for all people, actually, and we just don't know it. I've also wondered whether this is the sort of thing responsible for the huge gaps in my memory I have from my childhood--blocking distressful memories isn't an uncommon coping mechanism, though I'd be far quicker to blame my forgetfulness. Don't get me wrong: I'm an average and fairly content person. I'm not mad (or if I am, I'd have to say that majority of the people I know also are), I'm not depressed or suicidal (though I'm prone to periods of melodrama--then again, who isn't? Particularly if one is a writer?). I just have too many thoughts I'd like to shut up or get rid of. And if blogging again helps me to do that, well, I'm willing to give it a shot.