Walking the Line: Admissions of an Anti-Diarist

I've always had trouble with diaries.

Despite the inspiration I draw from people like Anne Frank, Anais Nin, and Samuel Pepys, I will never be a successor to any of them. Keeping a journal requires a commitment and dedication that I sorely lack. I see it as more of a burden than a release: something I would have to force myself to do.

I could probably trace this back to the fifth grade, when we were made to keep a diary every day. The teacher would put a topic on the blackboard, and we would write uninterrupted for fifteen minutes after the first bell had sounded. The exercise in and of itself was something I greatly enjoyed; the fact that we had to do it was something I did not. This carried over into later years, when we were assigned books to read for book reports. Although the books were unarguably classics ("Lord of the Flies", "To Kill A Mockingbird"), and I probably would've loved them, I did not read them. I didn't want to be told what to read. I would rather have failed than not follow my own instinct. Reading and writing have always been deeply personal and important to me, and if I'm going to read or write anything, I want it to be something I can pour my heart into completely.

So it is interesting that I should start a blog. My fear as I write this inaugural entry is that this task of blogging will turn into...well, a task. I want this to be something I want to do, not something I've "assigned" myself to undertake. So I'm setting up some ground rules to keep my mind and my pen focused. I will only tackle certain parts of my history; I will use this forum as a place to make solid my opinions, my criticisms, my praises. This will not, I hope, be a place to air my dirty laundry or to free associate. I have a therapist for those things.

I realize I'm walking a delicate line here, trying to segregate my thoughts (which are so often a bit warped and scandalous) into something both entertaining and useful to you. And that's precisely why I write: to feel less alone. The idea that someone, somewhere, may read something of mine, and say, Yes! I know how you feel! That is a tremendously comforting thought to me. And so, while I may not mention (or dwell) on the unseemly, you have my word that I will be authentic and honest and present to you the truth as I know it. Your truth may differ, and I embrace that. But for the time it takes to read a blog entry, let's try and feel a little less alone - shall we?

Welcome.