Always a writer

I used to keep diaries. Every day from 1st January 1995, when I was 10, I wrote and wrote and wrote, pages and pages of thoughts and feelings and hopes and fears. A proper diary keeper.

Recently, when feeling a bit lost in myself, I decided to reread some of these diaries, starting with 1995 onwards. I suppose it was a sort of experiment, to see if I could revisit the old me and somehow make sense of the me now a bit.

I have just finished them.

My god... I was such a self indulgent, self centred little thing. Specifically the diaries between the ages of 14 and 19. Everything was a drama, everything a crisis.

Me, on the right, with my lovely friend Ash, aged 17. Don't ask about the hair or the costumes...

A boy not calling after two hours of meeting him?

DRAMA

My mum being cross at me because I didn't empty the bin?

DRAMA

My teacher yelling at me because they expected me to actually do homework?

MEGA DRAMA

It is all very stressful!

And, it has brought back a lot of memories, and given me a more realistic view of the events that really happened; the feelings I had at the time and the account of it in my diary seem to be very different things.

I was thinking that, perhaps, the reread would give me some inspiration for a new letter to my 17 year old self.

But alas no, I will stick with the original, although I may add a 'GET THE HELL OVER YOURSELF' on the end!