During my most recent bout of spring cleaning, I came across stacks and stacks of old journals. The earliest one dates back to when I was eight years old! And it's been a fairly regular habit ever since. So it would not be an exaggeration to say that in totality, these journals chronicle most of my life.
A lot of the really early ones are pretty amusing. They're usually just two or three sentences about anything notable that happened that day at school. Such as this entry from September 15th, 1990...
Or this one from a few days later…
Jumping forward to the mid-90s, I hope you don’t cut yourself because things are about to get edgy…
At this point, a lot of the pages start getting filled with poetry and song lyrics. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. This kid had FEELINGS. Unrequited love seems to be the prevailing theme of my adolescence.
Once I hit my late teens though, a more upsetting trend emerges. This is when almost all of the entries become about hating the way I look, how worthless I feel, goals that seem out of reach, and the inability to change my circumstances no matter how hard I try.
And sure, I guess that tracks. Those years can be difficult to navigate. But...
As I kept reading, it was pretty depressing to see that this was not a temporary shift. This quickly became my status quo. There are entries from my early 20s that are practically interchangeable with stuff I wrote last year. The specifics might change, but the overriding sentiments are identical. It really shook me to realize just how long I've been dealing with the exact same list of fears, insecurities, and obstacles.
Over the next few days, I spent a lot of time thinking about this. I tried telling myself that at a certain point, journaling primarily became a way to process negative feelings and work through tough times. I'm just not as compelled to write when things are going well. So I'm really only seeing half the story... right?
... right?
Is that the truth or just a comforting lie?
I also thought about how so many aspects of our personality can be both a blessing and a curse. That being the case, maybe I’d find some solace in reframing some of these recurring negative traits. For example, I've always been teased for being too sensitive. And yeah, that's caused me a great deal of heartache. But it's also made me a deeply empathetic person. And, for what it's worth, probably a much better artist.
I can also be shy and withdrawn. To the point where I sometimes come across as rude or disinterested. Which really sucks. But the other side of that is that I've always been independent and self-reliant.
I'm impossibly stubborn. I take on too much, don't ask for help, and then resent it when I don't receive any. I was the kid who took charge of group projects and wound up doing most of the work. Definitely need to address those tendencies. However, another way of looking at it is that I'm strong-willed and a natural leader.
Understanding that some of the things I hate the most about myself are also responsible for some of my best qualities did help mitigate this a little bit. But not completely.
There’s definitely some solace in looking back on the events described in these entries and knowing that everything turned out okay. All those hurdles that seemed impossible to navigate at the time. The inconsequential bullshit that felt so life-or-death important that didn’t actually matter at all. I found my way through all of it.
If only I could go back and tell myself that. Because flipping through these pages filled me with an overwhelming sense of concern for this guy who was being way too hard on himself.
But why was it so much easier to extend that level of compassion to this past version of me when it seemed to be in such short supply here in the present day? It's like finding an old photo of yourself, noticing how attractive you were, remembering that you hated the way you looked when that photo was taken, realizing there's an important lesson in there, and then just... not learning it.
And wow, there were a lot of lessons not being learned in the pages of these journals. Instead, I saw a lifelong pattern of trying to treat the symptoms instead of the cause. Failing to recognize the things that were actually in my power to change. Resisting the things that weren't. God, I’ve wasted so much of my life pushing against immovable objects and ignoring open doors.
Acceptance is a word that comes up again and again during therapy. And one of the things I've learned to accept is that there are a lot of things I struggle with that I'm never going to beat, only manage. But even still, these journals forced me to question... has it really been this fucking cyclical? I thought I was finding my way out of these woods, but if I keep winding up right back where I started... have I just been lost this entire time?
I thought I was making progress. I felt like I was. Especially this past year (and especially the past nine months I've been writing this newsletter). But what if this has all just been another rotation in that same cycle?
I didn't have an answer for that. So I did what I usually do when I have a bunch of tangled thoughts I'm trying to unravel... I journaled.
But before I started writing, I looked back over the past year's worth of entries. The first thing that struck me was that were considerably fewer than in previous years. Because I really do write less frequently when I feel more secure. That is true.
The next thing I noticed was that the overall tone was drastically different. Even when I was going through a rough patch. The way I talked about myself... the language I used... it was so much more forgiving and less judgmental. And I don’t think that would have been as apparent if I hadn't just gone through the older journals.
And finally, there was a stretch where I combined my regular journal with my gratitude journal. At the end of each entry, I'd make a short list of things I was grateful for that day. No matter how awful I was feeling. It was usually really simple stuff. Something funny one of the cats did. A pleasant exchange I had with one of the neighbors. But it really created a sense of balance that the other journals were missing. I have to remember how important it is to note the peaks, not just the valleys. I have to tell the whole story.
Overall, the experience was an important reminder that our day-to-day progress is often imperceptible. But it's there. It's happening. And every once in a while, you're gifted with a moment that allows you to see how far you've really come. That path is not always a straight line. It may be jagged. But it's not a circle.
Take care, friends. Talk to you soon.
While I was never one to journal as a kid, I did draw a lot and most of my teen drawings were either cartoons or pictures that represented feelings of self hate, self loathing, feeling of not fitting in, hating my appearance, etc. It wasn’t until I became a special Ed teacher that I realized I was able to take that ball of messy feelings from my youth and use it as a learning experience and apply it to my teaching. It’s allowed me to relate to students who are struggling and help them.
Glad you're kinder to yourself as time has gone on. I often say to myself whenever I finish something creatively, "I'll do better next time." Ever since I was a kid. It's only recently that my girlfriend has implored me to stop and appreciate what I've done in the past and how far I've come. It's good to want to better yourself and hope you can better yourself. But, stop and acknowledge you're doing better than yesterday and that's a wonderful thing.