A new era

I was clearing out an old hard drive, and I came across a download of my old Opendiary from 2000. I was a Junior in High School, and writing on OD was a great way to share my views of the world, organize my thoughts, and get feedback from both strangers and friends. What a trip to read it all. I was hormonal, psychotic, and experiencing a lot of life at the time. I had just broken up with my girlfriend Angela, and was exploring a new relationship with a woman who would become the mother of my first child. I was also exploring my sexuality and gender, and looking back I was so much farther out of the closet than I gave myself credit for. Other friends have commented previously that they were encouraged by my teenage self being so fearless, but I didn’t realize how that might have looked until reading about me going out in skirts and hitting on cute boys. The late 90s and early 2000s were a great time for me.

Reading it also exposed me to some less pleasant memories. I was self medicating for schizophrenia, contemplating asking my mom to share her weed with me, and lamenting a couple of near misses with pregnancy and STDs. I found an entry where a friend had told me she was going to kill herself. We haven’t spoken regularly for many years…but seeing that entry from 18 years ago made me message her and remind her that I’m glad she’s still alive.

I don’t know how regularly I’ll keep this up. It seems like writing helped me through some awful times before. Maybe it can help me find myself again. I’m heading down a path towards divorce, so that’ll give me plenty to expound upon I’m sure. I’ve lost myself. I’ve lost my voice.

I hesitate to put too much in here that might identify me if anyone stumbles onto it. I’d love to find random friends and make some great connections, like the internet back in 2000 before Myspace and Facebook and social networking both connected us all and severed us from making friends with strangers. Or maybe I’m just not using it the same way. I’m too nostalgic. I used to be very dramatic in my writing. I’m pretty reserved in speaking anymore. I hope to fix that.

In another 18 years, maybe I’ll read this again and see where my head was at and sigh. Hello, future me. I wish our past me’s had done this more.