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Soliloquizing like you would not believe
4:14 am
My name, should you know it, remains unspeakable, and is spoken - malediction 
3rd-Jan-2012 09:23 pm
I looked through my pen-and-ink journal today, and read the entry from right after my meltdown. It's seventeen pages long. All I could think of, flipping through it, was 'holy hell, I wrote this?' It's beautiful and painful, and there are phrases in there that I can't believe came from my head. That I can't believe are a first draft, as rough as they can be. It doesn't read like I was writing it for myself, though I certainly didn't have the intention of ever showing it to anyone else.

I think that I like the way I put words together.

I've never re-read any of my private journals before, but it's a practice that I may cultivate.
4th-Jan-2012 03:13 am (UTC)
You really have never re-read any of your personal journals before? I do it, albeit rarely, and it always astounds me to hear the changes in my voice as I go along. It amazes me to see what upset me back then and what things brought me joy. The people I hated and how those opinions have changed or how those people have become so insignificant to me now that I've almost forgotten them completely. It's an interesting practice to see our growth and progress in life.

You've mentioned your meltdown occasionally in your journal but haven't gone into any details - that with your New Years post, I just want to know that I wish you all the best and find the happiness that you deserve. I may be a practical stranger over the internet but I want you to know that I'm rooting for you. :)
12th-Jan-2012 01:16 am (UTC)
Well, to be fair, most of my serious journaling was done back in high school, and I honestly don't care very much about what I had to say back then, because a lot of what I did was fairly, ah, pathetic. Staying up all night weeping over undeserved, unrequited love and whatnot. I still have the books, but I don't really want to look at them. I was not a very impressive teenager, and I'm under the impression that most of high school shouldn't count, simply because I was completely insane while it was going on.

The stuff I did in college was fairly sporadic and terse, because I was going through family divorce drama and I sort of drew in on myself a lot more, I think. The journals that I kept after that are present, but that's about all that I can say for them: they are exceedingly thorough, but they are completely impersonal, simply recording facts without any opinion, any thought, any emotion. They feel very dead. I don't need to read them to know that, because I remember what I wrote, and how boring it was, and the way I felt like I didn't know why I was writing it. At some point, as my friend told me when I mentioned it to him the other day, I must have burnt out. So, I don't want to read those, either, for a very different reason (omg it is five composition books full of horrendously boring boredom).

I guess it's interesting to compare not the details, but the mental states that inspired these different stages? Hm. This bears more thinking about on my part.

Thanks! Honestly, I'm pretty glad that I did have a freakout (it was more of an existential crisis, really), because it sort of shook me awake, you know? I am much more aware of myself on an emotional level than I have been for... several years. It's good for me, I think. Motivating, even if it's fairly stressful to experience.

I hope it doesn't need saying, but the sentiment definitely goes both ways. ♥ (not that you're having a meltdown, but you know...) It's nice to know that someone's thinking of you, and strangers on the internet are some of the best friends you can have, imho. :)

(did that sound stupid? I feel like it sounds stupid. WELL TOO BAD)

ETA: This is a very long comment. What happened to comment titles? They are gone now? Very strange, lj. Very strange.

Edited at 2012-01-12 01:23 am (UTC)
5th-Jan-2012 02:30 pm (UTC)
Funny how that works, isn't it? You never really "hear" your own voice until you go reread what you wrote, and half the time you can barely believe you wrote it. I always find it weird to go back and read what I've written though, especially if it was from a goodly chunk of time ago. I'm always like, "Was that really ME back then? Waaat?" Seventeen pages though, wow. That's pretty amazing, yo. Hope you're feeling much better though. Hugs everywhere! :3
12th-Jan-2012 01:22 am (UTC)
It is exactly like that. I remember doing the writing, and what it's all about, but when I read it I'm like 'WHOSE WORDS ARE THESE? HOW DID THEY KNOW WHAT WAS IN MY HEAD?'

The number of pages is due to the fact that it was words about feelings and thoughts about feelings about feelings. I'm not sure it's possible to express those succinctly. Also, the journal is wide-ruled, and I was writing very quickly and in cursive, so my handwriting is huge, but it is still a lot of words, yes.

And thanks! I'm doing pretty well (at least as well as I was before, if not better), and I guess calling it a meltdown sounds pretty negative, but it wasn't/isn't painful in a bad way, necessarily, if that makes sense. It's more like it's painful because it hits close to the bone, you know? But it's not bad, really, just very intense.
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