Renewal, a Musical

Backyard Renewal
Originally uploaded by ndjohns

I have spent the last few days marveling over the dawning spring and wandering down the dirt paths of my misspent youth. Somehow these activities seem congruous to me. The fertile soil of my youth and adolescence feeding my current creative re-birth and my own nurturing of my son. The circle of life, or something.

The journal reading started with a search for a particular story that I wrote in college. In my memory the story rocked, but in reality, at least my current view; it really sucks in a naive and amateurish way. Now some of the other projects I uncovered were worth a look and even some revisions. But they reek of everything I no longer am, so it was painful and amusing, resulting in a rather melancholy mood.

Yesterday afternoon I was hit with the deep pain and obsessive tendencies hidden in plain view among the pages of my journals. I have had some serious cycles of depression, particularly in the late teens and early 20's. I probably should have been under some kind of professional psychological care, but no one ever mentioned it to me. I was good at hiding it, at least from the people who might have the authority or interest in helping me. But I think that if anyone had really dared to look they would have seen me struggling, I showed some obvious warning signs. But I guess in a testimony to my own character, I survived.

Most of the really painful situations and events of my life (at least since I was 10) are not chronicled in my journals. Just the heartbreak from boys who didn't like me or didn't love me, and sometimes a rant or two about the world in general. But I didn't write about my father's alcoholism or the abusive boyfriend. I censored myself or protected myself. I can't quite figure that one out. As a result of all this reading , brooding, remembering, laughing, missing and even some crying; I have decided to be absolutely honest in everything I write in my current and future journals. I really don't have anything to hide from myself. And if anyone else reads them, well that's what they get for snooping.

The other thing I learned about myself: I could be kind of promiscuous at times.