I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me!
Tuesday May 17, 1994
Sunday night I cut myself. My wrist and arm are a mess. I knew I wouldn't die (I wanted to) but I liked the pain. All of the cuts are on my right arm. There was one cut on my left wrist. R saw it & asked me if I had "cut myself". I lied & said I had cut it at work. I don't know if she believed me. Probably not. I really don't care if I die or not. Everyone says it would be horrible to get AIDS or something and die, but I couldn't care less!
Last night, R apologized for getting on my case about my wrist (imagine if she had seen the other one!) I kept lying and saying I didn't do anything. She said she would be so mad if I did. I was gonna tell her, but... oh well. She's been keeping things from me. She asked D to the prom and didn't tell me until4 days later & even then it was because I asked her if she was gonna ask him.
Then, a few weeks (or days!) later, they decided they weren't gonna go. R didn't tell me. I forget how the subject got brought up, but I know she didn't volunteer! She won't tell me anything about it, either. Me & her are supposed to be best friends... but we hardly ever talk. Must be my fault. Seems like all my relationships are like that.