I hadn't thought about this blog in years till I was asked about it in passing. I lied - said I had deleted it. Why? I was extremely embarrassed. The thought that my childish musings were still floating around the internet after all this time. I needed to get rid of them.
I came here this evening with the intention of deleting this blog permanently - these cringe-worthy weekly ramblings of someone that I used to know. I didn't want to read any of it lest I recoil back in a fit of disgust. I cant tell you why I regarded my past blog posts with such a raw hatred. I guess I've always hated pictures of myself, I just assumed I'd feel the same about fragments of my past.
"Nostalgia is a dangerous form of comparison. Think about how often we compare our lives to a memory that nostalgia has so completely edited that it never really existed"
I had come back, a very different person, to discover that my (edited) memories had been wrong all this time. This blog, instead of being a source of deep regret and disdain, was in fact a clear snapshot of my life at that time. It seems a perfectly obvious trait of a diary to so explicitly preserve your memories - I dont know why I didnt realise that that was what this blog was doing.
I liked what I read. In fact, memories came flooding back as I poured through post after post. It was a little surreal. I have become a very different person, and this blog is proof. Thoughts about sadness and suicide no longer plague my mind. I never thought it possible at the time, but I've become happier, joyful & optimistic (My past self would deeply disapprove of this word).
I've experienced so much since then. I've moved - I'm living abroad for a little bit. I'm studying something I've been waiting all my life to do. I'm glad that I've kept in touch with old friends and made new ones along the way. My relationship with my family is so much better. My relationship with myself is so much better.
I guess the blog's staying up for now.






