Diaries and Journals

Journals of my past

M and I had extremely difficult prior week for the both of us, both physically and emotionally, and after we had a particular grueling night, I suggested to M that he start journaling his thoughts.

Now, I've been a diarist since I was 18.  This blog and any other writings I post is more or less an extension of my real life journaling.  As you see above, I have amassed quite a bit of written materials over the years.  Although if I was a bit more disciplined, It would be a much bigger pile.  Hard to believe, I can be just as lax on those journals as much as posts on this blog.  So the way I started journaling, was absolutely silly actually.  We were huge fans of Twin Peaks.  At the time, the producers of the show published a made up diary of the main character, a book that we were enamored with.  Later, I discovered and was influenced by the diaries/fictional works of Anais Nin.  As the novelty wore off, I justified my journaling as a way to get into writing the great American novel.  When the novel never materialized, it became what it is now, my therapist, my sounding board, and at its simplistic term, a list.

I still carry a journal around.   It has helped me deal with many things of my life, as well as develop my writing style.  As much as it has given me such comfort to be able to process my thoughts and desires in this way, I have never advocated anyone to do the same.  Until now.  I've given my share of unsolicited advice over the years, yet for some reason any suggestions regarding journaling has been strangely absent.  And I don't know why that is.

I guess for me, its always been sort of an open secret.  I mean I don't hide the fact that I keep one, nor am I shy journaling in public.  What is new for me is that I admit publicly that yes, I am a diarist, however my motivation for doing so shallow (Must distinguish myself from other posters on the Net says my ego).  

What I wasn't expecting from what this would do for me was that it has given me perspective.  For example, because I've kept those journals from my past, I do on occasion re-read them.   I have also added running commentary on some entries while clarifying others, usually on the margins, or on the next page.  I have become my own editor of my past, it would seem.  No, I don't delete anything.  I elaborate and expand what is already there.  Aside from pictures, nothing says "My...you have changed!" like past thoughts written on paper.

I suggested to M he should start journaling because his demons was threatening to push me aside again.  He was scared, hurt and very much alone.  I gave him one of my new Moleskin journals, still wrapped up in its cellophane.  He accepted it and told me that no one had ever given him anything so personal.  It was sweet for him to notice, but I figured that Moleskin was going to be used properly.  Today, we went to one of our favorite stationary stores, one that sells mostly writing implements from Japan.  And he found his tool, a red fountain pen.  As for me, I wrote in my journal tonight.  It is right next beside me, with my own personal writing tool, a Pilot Hi-Tec Colleto Lumio with 4 interchangeable ink barrels.  

I don't know what will happen to my journals in the future.  I have yet to decide if I will burn them when I die, or to give them to my niece or nephew as an inheritance.  I don't particularly care, I doubt they will ever be published.  Hell, I doubt they can even read it, my handwriting has become ever more atrocious as I age.  But, until then, I will continue to keep this practice of writing pen on bound paper.  

Journals to be