I took a bus ride today, not knowing where it went or how it got there. For the first two hours I felt lost, not understanding any of what I was thinking or feeling. In the last hour I almost broke down, a little clearer in my head but not much. All I found out is that I hurt, that I don’t want to get out of bed, that I don’t want to talk to people, that I need help.
There’s about two months through the entire year when stepping outside makes me feel as if I’m only beginning my life, when I forget everything and lose myself to the blanketing sun, the brisk breeze, the freshness of the air. Ever since I was young I’ve had a picture in my mind of walking down a city street on a new morning, emerald lawns swaying in the shade, almost indescribably perfect. I’m determined to find this place one day and share it with someone.
I just spent three hours writing an entry that got me nowhere. All I found out is that sometimes life seems harder than it should be.
I feel worthless.
She hugged him tight round the neck, her arms trembling, as though she was trying to pass her soul to him with that kiss. No, it was right and proper she should die!
I find that I’m beginning to compare myself with others, in order that I feel better about myself. I keep telling myself that I have no debt, no ailments, and barely any responsibilities. I’m a university graduate, I live in a great city in a comfortable apartment, I’ve finally fallen into a great bunch of stand-up friends. Why does it feel as though I have nothing, that I’ve accomplished nothing, that my life is nothing? That in my nearly 23 years of life, I have nothing to show for it but a few frissons and a life or two affected.
If only I was being too hard on myself.
I recently renewed my contract with my current host for another year of service. I’m a little surprised that this page hasn’t fallen into desuetude over the last year. I suppose it’s only now, at 22, that I’m able to find meaning in almost all aspects of my life, that I have enough to write about. My previous seven or so pages have been rather empty, although there was more variety in the content. I don’t think I’ve ever had a layout last this long.
It’s usually when I have a negative emotion that I’m able to write, but the last year has been a series of ups and downs, although mostly ups, and considered to be more stable than previous years. Sometimes I can read back on previous entries and re-experience the emotion I was feeling at the time of writing them. I’m surprised that I’m not embarrassed about some entries, how rawly I’d express myself, and what I was thinking at the time. I find that I’m usually embarrassed by how ignorant, stupid, and idiotic a person I used to be. Aaron explains to me, of course, that it’s all just a measure of how far I’ve come, but it’s sometimes it’s difficult to think of what I was like and not feel shame.
I remember the nights I spent, after all classes were finished, coming home, cooking a meal, taking a shower, all I’d have left was to sit in front of my glowing monitor and write. When all I wanted, at the end of the day, was to be able to turn the lights out, write until my eyes felt too tired to focus, and go to sleep satisfied. I’m not sure if I remember those nights fondly or not.
And perhaps there are more to come.