Month: November 2014
I have never kept a diary even though I said many times I should or date the notes I write but I have yet to do so. There are many things I wrote and pictures from my youth that I saw no use for at the time and discarded them. Now I wish I kept them. I think most of us can say that. This post reminds me of this.
I have kept a diary from the age of about eight. I used to start each day with: Dear Kizzy, and write as if to a friend. Sadly most of my teenage diaries were destroyed because my older self didn’t like that previous expression of angst. And even later diaries were destroyed, but those ones in a ceremonial fire – I realised how much bitterness and anger from my divorce they contained, and wanted to let that go.
Five years ago I started referring to my diary as a journal, I don’t know if that word is a little more serious, or if I just needed a change of term for a change in the style of entry. In the past re-reading diaries was painful because the pages were filled with all the bad things that happened so this made my life seem incredibly unbalanced, although it wasn’t at all…
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