I'm kind of a crazy person.

I know that everyone has their craziness or little idiosyncrasies that make them somewhat weird or unusual. And I understand that seeing as everyone in the world has those, it's somewhat acceptable to be open and honest with yourself and others about their existence. And I thought I was.
Apparently not.

Seeing as I have a mere three weeks left until I enter the Missionary Training Center, it's about that time to pack up everything I own. While I was sorting through my amateur version of a hoarder room [filled with way too many pictures, movie ticket stubs, and other things I had deemed highly sentimental in my teen years], I came upon my high school journals.

Let me explain my history with journals. Except for my Sophomore and the first half of Junior years at BYUH, when my journaling was consistent, insightful, and [somewhat] classy, every journal I have ever had goes a little something like this:

First page: An explanation that I am once again very bad at writing in my journal and my goal to actually stay with it this time around. The next few entries are consistent and I seem to write at least every couple of days. Then the entries start to deplete. Not only are they further apart, they are much shorter. If nothing else, the carelessness increase can be shown and probably scientifically charted by the decrease in my handwriting quality as I turn the pages. Then come the entries that end mid-sentence. Then the ones with less than a paragraph. Throughout the journal are lists. Endless lists. Packing lists, lists of people I'm mad at, lists of people to invite to my party, career possibility lists. Lists, lots of 'em. Also really bad doodles. And pages upon pages of practicing my handwriting and John Hancock. Lots of empty pages sprinkled in here and there and the occasional awful attempt at song-writing...? Needless to say, my journals aren't very substantial as far as actual journaling. Note: one journal had a start date over a year prior to the last entry. There were 16 entries.

So now that you know the usual pattern, let me just fill you in on how the discovery of said journals is making me realize it's a darn good thing I'm going on a mission and maybe I'll receive a miracle resulting in my transformation to a more internally balanced human being.

My favorite part of finding the journals wasn't even the fact that in every single one the only consistency took place starting with EFY over the summer. So cliche. Let me just say, I thought I was sooooooooooo deep you guys. But beyond that ridiculousness, were the real treasures. "Letters I will never write." First of all, I don't understand why I called it that, seeing as I was writing them. Thank goodness college has taught me the difference in meaning between "write" and "send."

These letters though. Oh my goodness, they were so intense. Apparently I really was as awful as people though I was in high school because I was absolutely hateful to these people. My favorite one is the letter I wrote to Billy. I had not only a few, but a plethora of choice words for this kid. I let him have it. And in my defense, although completely idiotic overall, the letters were very articulate. Billy wouldn't have had any self-esteem left if I had really "written" that letter. What started to happen though is about half way through the letter I realized I had no memory of this person whatsoever. NONE. I even went to facebook to see who I know from high school named Billy. Yeah...no one. Whaaaaaaaaaaat? So now I'm extremely confused and somewhat intrigued by this Billy character, but more importantly I'm very concerned about my mental stability. Apparently I need anger management as evidenced by a letter to someone I can't even remember!

This journal exploration was kind of horrifying for my view of myself as a teenager. I was seriously a weirdo. I guess I was pretty good at hiding the extent of it though because at least I was only saying these things in a journal and still sat with a full lunch table. I'm not sure how that was the case, but thank goodness for it. I think later today I'll check the attic for my journals from the 90's. I'm pretty sure those will have some real gems.



Before you go, if anyone knows of a Billy that I did NOT like in high school [roughly junior year], please tell me any details you can remember.