It’s been tough trying to get through December, mostly because my munchkin-self has designated each diary slot for remembering every damn little thought she had. Tired yet? I kinda am.
Quick recap: Santa is real. Bus crush Neil is gone and Alissa is too. I love everything that breathes and want to remember loving them. My new crush is some dude named Andrew (he’s in my class) and red pen is my writing utensil of choice. It’s highly probable I picked red because of its correlation with Christmas and clueless to what red ink would mean to me in the future. #damnyoucollege
Here is December 1997 part III.
December 17, 97 last night I saw my magic hourse! December 17, 97 I lik Ashly C, and Ashley S, they are my friends. December 17, 97 that guy that kissed Wendy he is cute in Walden Elemtuhrey school!! December, 18, 97 Today Santa wrote back to me to me! December 17, 97 rember all the stuff animals! rember elephant, teddy, seal, and Butterfly. December 18, 97 I Love the red Lion's the show I love lions I love cartoons and cartoon network. December 18, 97 I like Jim Caray rember my cross from Grandam to where I love to sing I love to sing rember my little Mermaid covers december 19, 97 Grandpa is an elf I want to be an elf! I love Ducks <3 I love Santa's rain Deer. December 19, 97 This old guy I, feel Bad!!!!! this old guy looks like he is a thef! You know those little sand curturs I wish I had one it was on green lions. I love them! December 19, 97 Ashly C. is my friend Ashly S is o.k.
The obsessive need to remember everything came after my first experience with death and first big move. I’m sure I could pay a shrink a large amount of money to sort through those issues, but I’ll save that for another day and dollar.
On a positive note, I don’t obsessively write down everything I want to remember. Then again, there are a lot of parts in my life that I’d rather not remember and the list of people and things I love has shrank to almost zero.
I struggle with loneliness and stressing about where I belong on a daily basis. My inner judge tells me I don’t belong, or that I’m not good enough. It’s an inner dialog that’s become poisonous. It stops be from moving forward, both in professional and personal aspects.
Will I ever learn to stop being so hard on myself? How do I put up blinders to keep out the toxic inner voice while nurturing the other healthy half? Is it possible to function with anger and keep stepping forward in a healthy manner?
Is there a such thing as too much empathy, because damn me and my sensitivity to old people hanging out by themselves! This no longer bothers me though, a decade as a server at an old country restaurant will cure you of old ‘cute old people’ syndrome. There’s a lot of crusty croutons out there.
The sudden shift between lonely old man to thief tells me one thing: the world ‘homeless’ wasn’t in my vocabulary. How else does a sweet old man go from lonely to thief based off looks?
Some days I wish I could go back to a world where I didn’t know any evil.
PS: I know exactly who Ashley S. and Ashely C. were, brb – gunna go find them on Facebook and see what they’ve been doing all these years later.
PSS: No idea what red and/or green lions show means, or who the Wendy and the cute kid who kissed her are either. I didn’t even know I knew someone named Wendy aside from Casper’s BFF.