Dear Diary Magic is real and I love Santa text

Dear Diary: December 1997 III

It’s been tough trying to get through December, mostly because my munchkin-self has designated each diary slot for remembering every damn little thought she had. Tired yet? I kinda am. 

Quick recap: Santa is real. Bus crush Neil is gone and Alissa is too. I love everything that breathes and want to remember loving them. My new crush is some dude named Andrew (he’s in my class) and red pen is my writing utensil of choice. It’s highly probable I picked red because of its correlation with Christmas and clueless to what red ink would mean to me in the future. #damnyoucollege

Here is December 1997 part III.

December 17, 97
last night
I saw my
magic hourse!

December 17, 97
I lik
Ashly C, and Ashley S, they
are my friends. 

December 17, 97
that guy 
that kissed Wendy 
he is cute
in Walden Elemtuhrey school!!

December, 18, 97
Today Santa
wrote back to me
to me!

December 17, 97
rember all
the stuff

rember elephant,
seal, and

December 18, 97
I Love
the red
Lion's the

I love lions

I love
and cartoon

December 18, 97
I like 
Jim Caray

rember my cross from
Grandam to

I love to sing
I love to sing

rember my
little Mermaid

december 19, 97
Grandpa is
an elf

I want to be an elf!

I love Ducks

I love Santa's rain

December 19, 97
This old guy
I, feel

this old guy
looks like he is
a thef! 

You know 
those little
sand curturs
I wish I 
had one it
was on green
I love them!

December 19, 97
Ashly C.
is my friend

Ashly S
is o.k.

The obsessive need to remember everything came after my first experience with death and first big move. I’m sure I could pay a shrink a large amount of money to sort through those issues, but I’ll save that for another day and dollar.

On a positive note, I don’t obsessively write down everything I want to remember. Then again, there are a lot of parts in my life that I’d rather not remember and the list of people and things I love has shrank to almost zero.

I struggle with loneliness and stressing about where I belong on a daily basis. My inner judge tells me I don’t belong, or that I’m not good enough. It’s an inner dialog that’s become poisonous. It stops be from moving forward, both in professional and personal aspects.

Will I ever learn to stop being so hard on myself? How do I put up blinders to keep out the toxic inner voice while nurturing the other healthy half? Is it possible to function with anger and keep stepping forward in a healthy manner?

Is there a such thing as too much empathy, because damn me and my sensitivity to old people hanging out by themselves! This no longer bothers me though, a decade as a server at an old country restaurant will cure you of old ‘cute old people’ syndrome. There’s a lot of crusty croutons out there.

The sudden shift between lonely old man to thief tells me one thing: the world ‘homeless’ wasn’t in my vocabulary. How else does a sweet old man go from lonely to thief based off looks?

Some days I wish I could go back to a world where I didn’t know any evil.

Dear Diary Series Signature - Love Shannon

PS: I know exactly who Ashley S. and Ashely C. were, brb – gunna go find them on Facebook and see what they’ve been doing all these years later.

PSS: No idea what red and/or green lions show means, or who the Wendy and the cute kid who kissed her are either. I didn’t even know I knew someone named Wendy aside from Casper’s BFF.

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Published by

Shannon Randol

Sharing life and what's helped me grow through what I've gone through.

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