My mother recently found my diary from 1982. I only had about half a dozen entries for the year (I have always sucked at journalling, which doesn't bode well for my blog) and they had a fairly common theme:
My life sucks and no one likes me.
Concern over immediate family member's depression.
Boring things I thought I should write about, like the weather, that I didn't really care about.
There is only one page that is even slightly upbeat, and that one is about making fun of an older boy I had a crush on.
While I was initially very excited to find the diary, it's lack of regularity makes is rather dull and a waste of shelf space to hang on to, but of course I will keep it.
What would my grandchildren think if they found it? If they were to assume this handful of entries were the most important things in my life -- the only things I bothered to write about must have been the most important things, after all.
1. I was an androgynous kid.
Diary: My diary only mentions baseball cards and sledding as things I was interested in.
Truth: I was much more interested in Barbies and horses than baseball cards and sleds, however I was a very androgynous kid who never felt 100% girl. I was a tomboy who loved makeup. I didn't fit.
2. I was attracted to a feminine boy who I was mean to.
Diary: "We called him feminine and imbecile!"
Truth: I have always been nearly exclusively attracted to people who challenge gender norms to a certain degree. I try to be nice to them now that I am an adult though.
3. I struggled with poor self-image and depression.
Diary: "Everyone hates me! Why am I wacko and strange?"
Truth: I do struggle with poor self-image and depression. I am a wacko and strange, but I think i mostly pass for normal in day to day life. Wackos are way more interesting dinner guests. I truly believe that it is what makes us different that makes us beautiful. (I ripped off that line from Tyra Banks)
4. My immediate family had issues of depression.
Diary: "I am really worried about ___. She is really depressed lately."
Truth: Yeah, that about sums it up.
So maybe my handful of childhood clues are more representative than they first appear. There is one other thing I should mention - the random "Fuck you!" I wrote in red pen at the top of one entry for no apparent reason. If I look back through my Facebook status updates, random expletives seem to be a common theme in my adult life as well.
(And my handwriting hasn't changed one iota in 30 years, but my spelling has significantly improved.)