The End of an Era

I've finally written my last entry in my old journal.

I've been an avid journal writer since goodness knows when. My Nana gave me my first ever journal, and I haven't looked back. I have volumes upon volumes of journals that chronicle the banal travails of my teenage years (is there anything more disgusting than teenage angst?) and then the onset of adulthood. My journals also hold the poems and short stories that will never be published for reasons only I will know. (Self-Doubt will be a good place to start.)

This particular journal, however, is different. I started writing on it in 2010, on the month I came back from the US, after grad school. It has been witness to my struggles of re-incorporating myself into the Philippine culture, getting back to teaching, looking for our own place to live in, lamenting over not getting pregnant, rejoicing in finding out I was finally pregnant (March 11, 2010 -- best day ever), coasting through pregnancy highs and lows, and then...silence.

For almost two years, I did not write anything in that journal. Somehow, motherhood and teaching and everything else became too demanding. I still blogged, so at least I have some record of that period, but I kind of regret not being able to write all that time.

The first entry after that period of silence was when I felt my depression deepening, when the panic attacks started. And then the rest is a tumultuous account of the awfulness that was 2012. The doctors allowed me to write in that journal during my stay in the basement, and so, needless to say, the entries are...interesting. (Although Devastating would be a good place to start.)

Before letting a journal go to pasture, I usually read its contents from start to finish, in one sitting. This time, I couldn't do it in one sitting. I found too many red flags, instances wherein I should've known things were going to be...bad.

And yet. All that was bad had to happen so that I could be where I am now. Not good, but better. Which is the most I could hope for at this point.

New journal. New...actually...Old Name. New Life. Enough News and Olds to make it...well, the jury's still out on that one. I hesitate to pick an adjective just yet. (But Terrifying would be a good place to start.)

It's the end of a particularly bad era, but then, that crappy era was my crappy era. And so it's still a little hard to let go. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...there. I've let go. (Not.)

Looking forward to making new memories though. And va-va-voom, it's my first red Moleskine. :) Good omen, I hope.

Here's to Whatever! (Said the girl who is afraid of The Unknown.) Chin-chin.