2004-12-29 - 12:10 a.m.
Well, here I am. I'm embarking on a strange new journey to heck knows where. My time in DiaryLand has been fun at times, and downright heart-stopping on other occasions. It's not DiaryLand's fault. It's not my fault. It's just that some things have to come to an end.
I made some wonderful friends here in DiaryLand, and for that I'll be eternally grateful. I've left before, and came back. I assure you, this time it's for good.
You know, as I look back and read some of my post-detox posts -- I'm actually a little embarassed by them. I mean some of the things that exited my mouth, were downright stupid. I was a mess, and if the entries themselves didn't show it, they would only be a constant reminder of what I went through.
I certainly don't want to be reminded of that. I'd rather just move on.
When I lived in Missouri five years ago, I had been journaling for about five years. I had six composition books filled with stories and entries which were almost always written under the influence. It served a purpose at the time. I wanted to remember what I had done the day before. How sad is [was] that?
I threw all six of them away, but not before burning them, symbolically. One of the smartest things I've ever done.
Now, as I flip back through page after page of entries here in DiaryLand -- from the first page of my 'Loopyboi' blog to this, my final entry in DiaryLand under 'oicur12', I see the same thing. Pages of things I don't fucking remember. So to any of you who wonder why I'm leaving? That's it.
There will be no more drinking. No more entries made under the influence. No more baring my soul to the point of self-violation, and no more tears lost over friendships that were never meant to be. (I'm not elaborating. I think prior posts, comments, notes, etc. explain it all.)
I shouldn't have to answer to anything to anyone about what was said to 'friends' in my diary, and I shouldn't have to rely on a diary as some sort of therapy. That's what the therapist is for. It's no fucking picnic being me, folks. It's no fun to trust when the trust is not there. And it's certainly no fun to be confronted with one's job over a lousy webpage. And it's most definitely no fun to be confronted about it and have so few people understand what that does to a person with a fragile ego, such as myself.
So you see, the torment is still there. Little things that don't bother some, are life-changing events for me. I don't see any point in carrying on here, or anywhere else for that matter.
I'll move on. I'm beginning to think that starting a diary might have been one of the greatest stressors in my life. Guess what?
Not anymore.
Have a great life!
Always,
Jamie
