More journal stuff.
Note: The blue is what was printed in the journal. The green is what I wrote as answers to the journal's questions (in 1996)
When I was a teenager, I felt that I was-ugly, unpopular, worthless, unimportant.
I think I went through some things as a teenager. I think I ALSO was going through something when I filled out these journal pages.
I'm wondering, was I having another bout of low self-esteem. Or my was self-esteem okay, and I was just realizing how low it had been as a teenager?
I'm getting the idea that I was angry. What I'm wondering is if that anger was directed inward. Or was it directed outward?
When I looked in the mirror, I saw-Myself.
Well, that' a relief.
How I thought others saw me-ugly, but I was beginning to understand that some people thought I was pretty.
I'm not sure this was all about perception.
I think I actually did become more (physically) attractive at one point.
I think I went through an awkward stage from about 10-15. Then from ages 16-26, I was beautiful. From about 26-39, I had a mixture of beautiful and ugly days. Now these days, it's mostly days of ugliness.
Maybe I'll be pretty again when I'm in my 50's and 60's.
If not that, maybe in my 80's.
I'd love to be beautiful like Queen Elizabeth. And what is she, 90 something?
Okay. I just Googled. She's 92.
I miss being beautiful. And there are many elderly women who are beautiful. So I like having hope that I can be one of them.
Yeah. I know. It's vain and superficial.
So, be it.
What made me happiest was-Probably television. No, I take that back. It was when people complimented my writing.
I still like those things.
What I wanted most to change was-My fat tummy. My lack of boyfriends. My back deformity.
What I couldn't change about myself-My Shoe size.
Yeah, but I also didn't really change my tummy or back deformity either. I still have both.
I think my greatest strengths were-my writing, my compassion, my height (when compared to my sister) my bra size (again when compared to my sister's).
And my greatest weaknesses-My weirdness. My inability to forgive my dad for making me watch the Exorcist when I was6 (7) years old.
I absolutely hate that I wrote this.
I'm glad I embrace my weirdness now.
I'm also glad that I'm stronger and wiser now, and understand that I am NOT weak for not forgiving my dad.
I do love my dad, but he put me in a situation than terrified me.
What's worse than that is he gaslighted me about the incident on multiple occasions.
I hate Donald Trump.
But I AM glad he brought the concept of gaslighting to the surface, and people are acknowledging how emotionally damaging it can be.
No one is ever obligated to forgive anyone. No one is weak for not forgiving someone. And this is especially the case, when the pain and/or mistakes have been coupled with lies, denials, dismissiveness, teasing, manipulation, and a lack of regret.
I am sad and angry that my 20-something self was feeling this way. I guess I'm partly angry at her but more so, I'm angry at whoever, or whatever, led her to believe that her way of dealing with emotional trauma was weak.
Note: The blue is what was printed in the journal. The green is what I wrote as answers to the journal's questions (in 1996)
When I was a teenager, I felt that I was-ugly, unpopular, worthless, unimportant.
I think I went through some things as a teenager. I think I ALSO was going through something when I filled out these journal pages.
I'm wondering, was I having another bout of low self-esteem. Or my was self-esteem okay, and I was just realizing how low it had been as a teenager?
I'm getting the idea that I was angry. What I'm wondering is if that anger was directed inward. Or was it directed outward?
When I looked in the mirror, I saw-Myself.
Well, that' a relief.
How I thought others saw me-ugly, but I was beginning to understand that some people thought I was pretty.
I'm not sure this was all about perception.
I think I actually did become more (physically) attractive at one point.
I think I went through an awkward stage from about 10-15. Then from ages 16-26, I was beautiful. From about 26-39, I had a mixture of beautiful and ugly days. Now these days, it's mostly days of ugliness.
Maybe I'll be pretty again when I'm in my 50's and 60's.
If not that, maybe in my 80's.
I'd love to be beautiful like Queen Elizabeth. And what is she, 90 something?
Okay. I just Googled. She's 92.
I miss being beautiful. And there are many elderly women who are beautiful. So I like having hope that I can be one of them.
Yeah. I know. It's vain and superficial.
So, be it.
What made me happiest was-Probably television. No, I take that back. It was when people complimented my writing.
I still like those things.
What I wanted most to change was-My fat tummy. My lack of boyfriends. My back deformity.
What I couldn't change about myself-My Shoe size.
Yeah, but I also didn't really change my tummy or back deformity either. I still have both.
I think my greatest strengths were-my writing, my compassion, my height (when compared to my sister) my bra size (again when compared to my sister's).
And my greatest weaknesses-My weirdness. My inability to forgive my dad for making me watch the Exorcist when I was
I absolutely hate that I wrote this.
I'm glad I embrace my weirdness now.
I'm also glad that I'm stronger and wiser now, and understand that I am NOT weak for not forgiving my dad.
I do love my dad, but he put me in a situation than terrified me.
What's worse than that is he gaslighted me about the incident on multiple occasions.
I hate Donald Trump.
But I AM glad he brought the concept of gaslighting to the surface, and people are acknowledging how emotionally damaging it can be.
No one is ever obligated to forgive anyone. No one is weak for not forgiving someone. And this is especially the case, when the pain and/or mistakes have been coupled with lies, denials, dismissiveness, teasing, manipulation, and a lack of regret.
I am sad and angry that my 20-something self was feeling this way. I guess I'm partly angry at her but more so, I'm angry at whoever, or whatever, led her to believe that her way of dealing with emotional trauma was weak.
Read my novel: The Dead are Online