Dear Diary,
I think I should start this off with a disclaimer; I’m not good at this. In my 30 years of life, I have not been able to keep a journal – let alone a diary. It wasn’t without a few tries, too. I even had that password journal toy that came out in the 90’s, and I still couldn’t make a habit of writing anything of worth down.
Saying this, it should come as no surprise that I handle life by internalizing a lot. I rarely spoke about my troubles or emotions, even if my friends all encouraged me to let go every once in a while. It wasn’t because I wanted to refrain from bothering people, or felt that if I complained it wouldn’t be well received. I’ve honestly had a lot of instances where sharing became a positive outlet, especially during my most desperate and trying times. Up until recently, I’ve never really understood why I couldn’t be open. Ever since the pandemic, I’ve had a lot of time to myself to think and consider how I’ve approached dealing with my life. So I’ve come to a somewhat basic understanding as to why I’m capable of organizing my emotions the way that I do. Most of it stems from the fact that I lost my sense of family at fifteen. When you’re tossed to the wolves in a very short amount of time after dealing with one traumatic event after another, you’re forced to grow up real fast. 1
I, of course, was not an exception to the rule.
Which leads me to this blog. Most people don’t post their diaries, or journals. Some want secrecy when they’re talking about their most intimate life experiences. I, on the other hand, have been told that my story is somewhat incredible. From my teachers back in 11th grade crying over my personal essays, to people I worked with over the years – I had, apparently, displayed an incredible amount of courage and bravery when I gave them a look into what I’ve been through. I guess you can say these people’s words have worn me down enough to give this a try. Nothing I’m about to share is particularly explicit or requires much of a content warning but it seems fair to mention I will be going over some tough subjects.
I’ve lost many people in my life. I grew up without a mother as she was the first person to pass away that impacted my life and my future greatly. I have very few people that I can call family, and the few that I do consider my blood have little to no relation to me. I’m chronically ill, struggling financially and mentally, and I’m cursed with far more free time than I know what to do with.
Maybe I’ll make a different post everyday, or maybe it’ll be done once a week. However I approach this, just be a little patient with me. I’m going to be sharing some deeply hurtful events that I’ve survived, and while they may seem small in comparison to everything else in the world, they still greatly impacted me. If you want a little hint as to how dark some parts of my life has gotten, I’ll leave you with a quote that someone once said to me after I explained how I got to where I am today: “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long, I would have killed myself by now.”
Kind regards, Sabey.
P.S: Dear Diary is way too cliche and I’m dropping it starting now. Instead, I’ll be writing to my mother. She may not be able to read them, but it’ll make me feel like she is.
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