My Secret Diary

I was flipping through my journal last night for want of better things to do. Since, my life is not as eventful as it used to be when I was still in school or college, I update my journal on rare occasions. Or maybe the excitement and curiosity has dimmed with age. (I sound like a depressed middle aged spinster! Ageing sucks!). Back to my journal, I am glad I hide it in a super secret place and my sister is married and hence her snooping around has ceased. Basically, I'm glad no one really is interested in reading my diary entries anymore, because had they bothered, they might have had me admitted to some institution for cuckoos! I sound morbid to myself!

Well, my diary is way to personal to share examples with you but I'll give you the gist. Most entries show me upset and angry over a fight with my mother or friends. An argument I had with my sister. In entries from six months back I sound frustrated with my job. Even earlier, I was disturbed seeing my best friends moving out of town. Before that, when I was more regular, I am cribbing about some minor (actually, it was rather major at that that) argument in college. Oh, the one where I am just venting my anger and frustration are still fine, almost normal, almost. 

What really shook me were the frequency of entries full of self doubt. As much as I might advocate self introspection, it doesn't suit me. I sound guilty for someone else's mistakes. It feels like I'm holding myself responsible for someone else's misery. I have trashed my confidence by questioning my talent and potential and blamed myself for everything wrong happening in the world. Thank goodness, I did not hold myself responsible for global warming and terrorism else I would have committed suicide to relieve myself from all the grief after reading my own diary! But don't worry world, you still have your dear blogger for a long long time. *rejoice!*

Although I was taken aback after reading the morbid part, I soon realised that instead of sharing these macabre subjects with the few good people I have in my life, and hence, screwing up their mood as well, it is probably better to vent it all out of my system without letting my negativity to rub off on others. Not like my issues are major. In fact I have a blessed life *touchwood* and re - reading my diary just reinforced it. It is human to get worked up about things which scare or upset us, like sneaking out dad's car and crashing the tail lights beyond repair, feeling jealous when your best friend chose to be in someone else's work group rather than yours in college, feeling remorseful and a bit alone after your sister's wedding and... err... I guess I'm giving away too much now! 

But each of my morbid post taught me a lesson. No really! I'm not trying to be preachy here, just telling the truth. Now if I reflect on the bad parts, they have taught me a lesson and made me the strong person I am. Besides, what I really liked about all the negative entries was that they all end with a positive sentence, a hope that things would be okay. Even though a few times they look forced, but at least I was trying to make myself feel better (I must admit I'm impressed with myself!)

And there are those occasional feel good write ups about a nice date, a thoughtful chat with a friend, a family outing, a heart - to - heart with my mother or anything which upped the good quotient in the day! And I had written them in my diary because either they were too private to share or it was too late to call someone up and share and because I was so full of happiness that I could burst, I blurted it all in my little secret diary. But if the reason for the very limited number of happy posts is that I shared it with other people, then that makes the good moments more worthwhile.

So, how does your diary read?