Ever write in a diary when you were little? You know the kind that had a pretty princess on the front, with a little lock and the tiniest little key that bent when you tried to lock it? I had one but never trusted it was safe from anyone’s eyes, and when the key bent with the lock locked, I quit. Not sure where it went. Probably in the trash.
Then in adolescence I tried journaling, but it seemed so laborious. Little irony here, I’m a blogger now…and all grown up. While I write from the heart in my posts, I choose my words carefully, pay attention to grammar, always think about the readers, and the message I want to share.
But some days I just want to write in a diary – a faceless, blank piece of paper that is both ready and willing to take on words and absorb feelings. So I googled “how to write in a diary,” and find it pretty funny that I needed directions on that. Here’s what I got:
When you’re writing in your diary it’s important to just write whatever you feel like, without worrying about who might be reading. Simply writing 100% honestly about your feelings or your ideas can help you work through them. This diary is for you. It is to help you remember.
Helping to remember is key, especially when the memory bank is sketchy. Too bad I didn’t try it sooner.
Here’s another one:
Diaries are great ways to keep track of your past and think about your future. Diaries have also been shown to help regulate mood and emotions. Keep your entries honest, detailed, and authentically you.
Honest, detailed, and authentically me? Check. But here’s the validation:
Writing your diary daily can get repetitive and discouraging. However, fret not for a diary provides a record of your life, in only your view. It is the safest form of communication as there are no limitations.
Ok then. Here goes.
There are times that I don’t hear from my busy college boy. But it seemed odd that the last few of days he wasn’t returning my texts at all, which sparked some upset and worry. So I sent him a text sharing my concern about his silence, and then I found out why.
It’s official. Apple won’t give him time off to come home for Christmas, they told him that it’s impossible and he can’t even swap his shifts. As I read his text I started to cry. It was a long one – his text that is – and he was crying too. He said he had a stern talk with his manager who told him sorry, but he has 3 days off the week after Christmas, so that would have to do. But Diary, he lives 9 hours away.
My mind raced for hours before it wore itself out, darting from one thought to another, along with plenty of tears.
My boy won’t be home at Christmas, or anytime really since he has to pay his way through college because a while back his father gambled away his college money and won’t help with tuition now… We had to move away from where my boy still lives because of Scary Mrs. Ex and her big fat bag of unleashed crazy… How does Sir Husband cope with not seeing his own kids due to her parental alienation… How do people who have kids in the military get through the holiday season… What about all the lonely people in the world… What about his brothers, they will be so sad… Christmas is off.
You know what else dear Diary? I don’t expect anyone to understand, unless they’ve been through it, and I don’t expect many to care. I am not looking for sympathy, just for a break – where everything works out for once.
I don’t need any “be grateful” dribble. Honestly that isn’t the point. All I am is grateful, every single day. So I can be hurt every now and again, I just have to work my way through it, like I’ve had to do my whole life. My son won’t be home for Christmas and we’re all very sad.
I’d sure love to see what I wrote in that little princess diary of mine. I wonder what it said, or if its imagined future was like reality is now. Because little girls dream and hope and believe, wonder and dance and sparkle.
Hmmm. It’s never too late as they say.