But I did learn a few things -
- I was not boy crazy; I was boy insane! Seriously, every week or two I note that I’d forgotten the previously written about boy and had moved on to crushing on a new one. Most of the names I no longer recognize.
- I felt deeply unloved and unaccepted.
- My habit of letting things go to shit and then having a revelation moment where I swear that things will be different from now on, has a much longer history than I’d realized.
- I put on a happy face even for my private journals. I refer to certain events without ever actually writing, “suicide attempt” or “cutting”.
- If I were a historian, I would hypothesize that the person who wrote these journals suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder. While a scary thought, that just might explain some things...