Welcome to flash back week. After digging through my old journals and writing assignments, I couldn't help but dedicate a week to sharing them with you. I hope you can feel the innocence, the awkwardness, the angst. And my, what a revelation. I would have never believed I was so obsessed with boys if I hadn't just read 7+ years worth of record keeping testifying otherwise.
The year: 1990. I wear Vans for shoes and only clothes bought at the thrift store will do. I obsess about music and photography and my social life. I have not yet learned the art of plucking my eyebrows and I quit the marching band because I don't see myself as a band geek. When asked to write about a phobia I have, I write about autophobia: the fear of being alone or of oneself. I write an assignment "in partial fulfillment of the requirements for Honors Composition":
These senses stretch before me like a giant, white, blank wall. Patiently I wait, hoping that this blanket will lift exposing a full and creative mind. The days pass on long and boring as I try hopelessly to create. I try to paint a picture with words but it comes out a jumble of confusion, making no sense at all. The big final day draws closer with each breath I take, but still my brain and pencil do not connect and I fail the class.
I struggle and agonize. And write really depressing poetry:
Rachel
Look at this
Sick feeling
Chills creeping
Much sorrow
How? Why?
Worse than me
Want to let go
But I can't
These feelings
Bubbling up
Will I ever—
again?
I never want to
And now these
Pictures
Images
Flashing red
I found the gold mine but somebody
Already took the gold
And replaced it with gravel
Dark and grey
Why can't I forget?
Some things are better
Left unsaid
Never should have uttered
Should I forget?
Can I?
At least not feel it
This hurt
And
Pain
Gone.
Sometimes I still cry for that 14 year old girl that I was.
Your writing from that era was very moving. It totally embodies how I felt as a 14-year-old girl. Heck, it embodies how I feel now sometimes. You're very talented.
ReplyDeleteI just want to go back in time and hug you! But I was 17-18... 'nuf said.
ReplyDelete14 was rough for me too. I had a lot of those same feelings but I didn't know how to communicate them as well as you did. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteSo sad. I didn't realize that was such a hard time for you. But look at you now! I was also embarassingly obsessed with boys. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm excited for flashback week.
i also wrote some pretty depressing poetry around that age... who knew i wasn't alone in that?
ReplyDeleteyou were pretty much my hero. i always thought (knew) you and your vans and your music were the coolest.
and don't worry, i still haven't mastered plucking my eyebrows.
First thing....you also wore doc martens then. remeber that made mom cry? Second, I also wrote bad poetry when i was a teen and thought it was good! Must run in the family. And third (most important), that's where Lexy is at right now. It's hard to watch her go through it. Thanks for reminding me that we felt like that too. Hopefully that will help me help her. love you!
ReplyDelete