Dear Diary – 9th/10th January, 2006

A few posts back, I wrote about finding one of my old diaries in my mother’s bedroom. Over a few days I read what I had written, and realised that although I’m still angry that she betrayed my trust after I thought we were doing well building a relationship, in a way I’m glad she kept it; I’ve learned a lot about myself through those diary entries, and I’ve decided to share some of them.

Monday 9th January, 2006.

I’ve always written a diary with the idea that maybe somebody else would read it. I think that’s why I always give up a few months in. So this diary will be written by me, for me, and nobody else.

I have been alive for 21 years and 1 month. 2006 is my 22nd year; something I’m finding hard to digest. I never thought I would see 21. It always seemed like a million years away, a goal I could never achieve, an age I didn’t want to reach. I find it hard to imagine how low I sunk through the years; the overdoses, the starving, the running away, the total disregard for myself. I never thought I’d get this far. I didn’t want to.

I’m not entirely sure how this year is going to pan out. There’s no denying it started off badly; nearly breaking up with O, the arguments, the fact that as new year arrived I was alone… I can only hope it’s not an indication that 2006 is going to be a crap year.

Met Elizabeth in town today*; we planned to see Brokeback Mountain but our cinema isn’t showing it. I can’t wait for the day I can move away from here. Sadly, since I have another two or three years left of college, it doesn’t look like it’ll be soon.

* Elizabeth and I were best friends for a number of years; we met at college and she called me her sister, said we were soulmates. Like most things in my life, I ruined the relationship (although she played a part) and we no longer speak.

Tuesday 10th January


Eventually got to bed at 2.30 last night, but didn’t get to sleep until 6. Tossed and turned for hours, opened the window, kicked the cat, put the light on, but just couldn’t sleep. Woke up half an hour later after a horrible dream and I know there’s no way I’m going to sleep after that. O is so cruel in my dreams, and I know it’s not really him but they’re so painfully realistic sometimes that I woke up fully believing he would leave me crying on the floor, that he would cut me out of his life. That’s my biggest fear.



I didn’t go into college today. Set off as normal, feeling a bit agitated after the dream, then halfway there I started shaking and feeling panicky, like I was closed in, like everyone was staring at me. Got off the bus and sat down at the bus stop and tried to call O but got no reply. Sat there for a while, getting more and more anxious, sweating, wanting to cry. Phoned college in the end and left a message; Ros will probably think I’m a crazy woman, I was stuttering and losing my train of thought. Took me forever to get hold of O and by then I was so stressed out I could only shout and rant at him for not answering earlier. Feel so guilty about it now. I know we desperetly need to talk. Otherwise, I think we might just fall apart.

Ate some soup then fell asleep when I got home. Tried speaking to O again but I can’t get the words out. I feel utterly useless today.

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  1. I had a diary when I was little. Then found out my brother got a hold of it. Then I decided to tear out some stupid entries. I still have them, but they have no sentimental value to me. I’m not sure why I’m even keeping them.

    This is one of the reasons you should think about a book. You do have guts. Not everyone is ballsy enough to publish their diary entries. But you’re reaching out.

    It’s funny looking back on these entries. The mindset you had. And the “Wow, what was I thinking?” (well in my case it was like that-I was such a dork).


    • Heh, oh, I certainly wonder what I was thinking back then. I know I’m still a dork, but at least I realise it now. I think just that is a good enough reason to hang on to a few memories. What is it about families reading diaries? I once (to my shame) kept a fake diary, filled with pretend important stuff. I was only ten or so, and wanted to pretend I had some sort of amazing life. My sister stole it and spent weeks taunting me about a boyfriend I didn’t even have.

      I still don’t know about the book (although I very much appreciate the compliments!) because… well, I suppose I don’t have a reason. I just get scared of big responsibilities, and being let down.


      • There wasn’t anything in my diary worth taunting me about. I think that annoyed my brother. Ha Ha.

        There’s no rush in publishing a book! Maybe in a couple years. Just keep it in the back of your mind. Yeah, alot of authors get rejected the first time. Even multiple times. But you just have to be persistent. Cop an attitude! After you do a couple revisions you start to think “YOU WILL ACCEPT MY BOOK YOU SOB!” or something like that. :)


        • Heh, at least your diary was real!

          Maybe. You’re not the first to mention publishing a book – even S and my mother have said the same – and I know that if I truly put my mind to it I probably could. It just feels like such a big thing. I wanted to be a writer when I was little, and now… people are suggesting I do it for real. I suppose I’m not used to things going well.


          • There may be some road blocks, but you have to be determined to get through them. Because you know your work is great. It’ll be frustrating, but it’ll get published. Publishers can be such assholes. These days though, you can self publish, for ebooks. It’s just a matter of promoting it yourself. There are SO many options out there. When your ready…you have a lifetime!

            I know the feeling of “not doing things well”. I’ve had my share of rejections. And disappointments. But you can’t let that get you down. SOMEONE out there will like your work. I think you’re posts would benefit so many!


            • Great advice; you’re winning me round ;) Only slightly though, so don’t get too excited! I have given self-publishing a thought, but I think it’s always been about an actual physical book in a shop to me; the idea of it being a real, solid thing. I don’t know, I’m weird.

              For now, being able to write online and actually have people reading it is more than enough for me; I’ve achieved the goal of having an audience and getting my writing out there a bit, and that gives me a nice warm glow inside.


  2. Hi there,

    Thank you for following my blog because otherwise I might have never found here! I looove your blog (makes mine feel silly and unprofessional in comparison, but please take that as a compliment) and I love how you write and what you write about. I find your words fascinating and for the first time in a loooong time I have bumped into a blog that’s refreshing, honest and uplifting even when you talk about difficult issues. Thank you for raising awareness – I also have been diagnosed with borderline personality, and it’s so difficult to talk about it as people just don’t get it….Keep going and stay strong, and take very good care of yourself xx


    • Firstly, unprofessional? Don’t be hard on yourself, it looks good and I followed because of the way you use words ;) You put your feelings across very eloquently.

      BPD… yeah, it’s hard to talk about. That’s why I mostly keep it to here; it’s easier when strangers don’t get it, because it doesn’t hurt as much. Take care of yourself right back, and keep writing; I’ve enjoyed reading :)


  3. I love that you did this. I kept a diary for years. When I moved in with my ex, there were somewhere around 7 full ones, until he started reading them that is. He then would use the information to start fights with me, so I packed them up and sent them to a friend’s. I since have them back, but haven’t written in one since. Strange how “excited” I was when blogging came around… ;) Somehow it seems different, a release once again. Don’t mean to sound melancholy, actually smile as I type this. Grateful your post reminded me that I am away from that and that I need my writing… thank you!


    • Glad to hear you need your writing; I think (for me, anyway) that writing things down can be the best therapy. Being able to go back through old diaries and seeing the differences is something I love, and although I’m angry that I had thrown the diary out only for my mother to keep it (and presumably read), I’m glad it’s still around. Reading it gave me an insight to myself I never thought I’d have.

      Your ex read your diaries? :(


  4. Pingback: Dear Diary – 11th/12th/13th January 2006 « Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

  5. Pingback: Dear Diary – 11th/12th/13th January 2006 « Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

  6. Pingback: Dear Diary – 14th/15th/16th January 2006 « Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

  7. I keep a diary on and off, it is a sort of therapy to me. helps get my confusion and out of controll thoughts in perspective, even if they are far fietched. my heart goes out to you, and I do hope you recieve a loving hug today. incase you dont……..SQUUUUUEEZZZEEEEE… sending you one IN THE BREEZE.thats of course IF you are willing to except it.(also understand if you don’t) xo PEACE xo


  8. Pingback: Dear Diary: 17th/19th January 2006 « Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

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