It’s been so long since I’ve had a journal. It’s silly that I’m so nervous to start another one.
I kept the name. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have gone with something new, as this is a new chapter of my life. I maybe even skipped a chapter. How awful it’ll be to have a whole chapter missing.
I had a diary from 15 years old to 21. The same diary… It got me through many of life’s twists and turns and heartaches and soul searching moments. I made friends. I fell on love. I became who I was trying to be, all because of a diary. Has it really been 5 years since I’ve talked to you?
Mind you, I realize it’s not you. But I always envision that I’m writing to you. Maybe that’s why I kept the name. So you’d find me. You know, if you wanted to.
I’m 26 now. I have a 4 year old and a 7 year old. Both have disabilities. Autism and ocd, respectfully. I made it through community college. I went to a private college (a Catholic one at that). I graduated. I became a social worker. And would you ever guess that I’m going to get my masters degree? I’ve already been accepted and I start this fall. I guess I’m not as dumb as I thought I was. I would have never guessed I could have done it without you. I do a lot without you now. I still think about you so often.
I’m in a relationship now. Maybe I was then too, I can’t recall. He spoils me. He worships the ground I walk on. He’s an amazing father and partner. We lack things in common but we have the basics in common. I could listen to him talk for days. And I do.
We’ve been together nearly 5 years. We plan to have another child some day, plan to move some day, plan to have a yard of our own and a dog some day. Some day.
We recently went on our first family vacation. And we went to Disney. It was beautiful and magical and everything I had hoped for. I thought of you often. I remember how much we wanted to go together.
I worked in a group home for several years. Its about as hard emotionally and physically as you’d imagine. I met a girl there. I think about her often. I’ll never forget the hours spent together holding each other’s hand, not knowing what would come next. I remember crying together, and I remember what it’s like to feel scared. Cancer is probably the scariest thing I can think of. I said goodbye to her, but her memory still catches me off guard.
I don’t work there anymore. I had some medical issues that unfortunately lost me the job (but don’t get me started on that. I am planning a lawsuit). I work now with children. Middle schoolers. I teach them. I cry with them. I laugh with them. They are making my hair turn gray. But I’ll be happy if I teach anybody anything and it sticks. The most difficult part is definitely still working with their parents. They’re often cold, unwilling to help, sometimes abusive and simply do not care.
I care for them. And it’s exhausting.
I would say I’m emotionally much heathier at this point in my life. I can go out in public without fear, I can go months without thinking about my self harming past, and outside of nightmares, my PTSD is nearly unnoticeable. My intrusive thoughts and compulsions are a different story, but still manageable.
I do hope I’ve made you proud.
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