Way back before the Baron Banner, before blogging in freshman year to this year as a sophomore, I used to keep a journal. It was one of those spiral notebooks with a fancy looking cover, I put an elephant sticker on it to make it look more cute. That was my daily journal, in which I kept all my thoughts in, and I never showed anyone. Not even my best friends.
These were the times where hormones start coming on and when my mood swings started. 8th grade, the year in which I considered the worst from start to end. I wasn't used to talking to people about my problems a lot, because I didn't want people to know I was feeling depressed or sad, just happy. And if I really really wanted to express it, like on my ex-Myspace account, I would leave confusing status messages only I would understand.
I wrote in the journal every single day as much as I could when I was in a writing mood. I wrote about what I did in the day, I ranted in it when I felt angry, went to the journal when I was depressed, anything.
Sooner or later, it got to a point where the journal began to drive me nuts, leading me to overthink issues, questioning myself without anything consulting to me back. It was like containing all my emotions into a bottle or a balloons, filling it more and more with air or maybe bees or any kinda of bug, that sooner or later, there's too much to hold inside and the balloon wants to pop, or the bugs barely have enough room or air to breathe in the bottle, they begin to go crazy and hallucinate...Well, you get it.
As for me, I went emo. And as much as I didn't want people to know how I felt, I didn't want people to know I was emo. So I didn't show it off, dressed all in black, etc. I wanted to kill myself, run in front of a car. Suicidal. And that's all I wanted to think. I didn't want to live anymore.
Until one day, I finally had the guts to talk to a close friend about it, and she became somewhat like a psychiatrist for me. That's how it was all year, whenever I had something to talk about (and I had much to talk about to her, good or bad), I went to her for advise, her consultation, just for her to listen. And I stopped writing in my journal.
By the end of 8th grade, I still had those mood swings and now, but I wasn't suicidal anymore, and I wasn't going nuts, keeping it all in. I looked at my old journal, in which I used to go to for comfort every single day in 8th grade, at the end of the school year in the summer. I took a sharpie and scribbled in "CURSED JOURNAL" on every single page.
Later on in my freshman year, I found my old journal again and looked through it. What a different I was like in writing. And what a different person I was like then and now. I did not wish to cherish this memory though. The next day, I handed the journal to my friend and asked her to burn it or dispose of it somehow. And after that, I never saw it again.
When I started the Baron Banner Blogs, I was uneasy about starting something like a journal again, but it's probably the best things that's helped me let things off my chest. I felt free, open, and honest to express myself just like any other journal. It was public too and my loyal peers gave me great advise and comfort to my blogs, and I felt similarity when others write about problems similar to mine.
From now on, I've gotten myself to avoid trying to bottle up all my emotions into a bottle. In the end, the emotions will fly around out of control if they become too much to handle all by myself.
These were the times where hormones start coming on and when my mood swings started. 8th grade, the year in which I considered the worst from start to end. I wasn't used to talking to people about my problems a lot, because I didn't want people to know I was feeling depressed or sad, just happy. And if I really really wanted to express it, like on my ex-Myspace account, I would leave confusing status messages only I would understand.
I wrote in the journal every single day as much as I could when I was in a writing mood. I wrote about what I did in the day, I ranted in it when I felt angry, went to the journal when I was depressed, anything.
Sooner or later, it got to a point where the journal began to drive me nuts, leading me to overthink issues, questioning myself without anything consulting to me back. It was like containing all my emotions into a bottle or a balloons, filling it more and more with air or maybe bees or any kinda of bug, that sooner or later, there's too much to hold inside and the balloon wants to pop, or the bugs barely have enough room or air to breathe in the bottle, they begin to go crazy and hallucinate...Well, you get it.
As for me, I went emo. And as much as I didn't want people to know how I felt, I didn't want people to know I was emo. So I didn't show it off, dressed all in black, etc. I wanted to kill myself, run in front of a car. Suicidal. And that's all I wanted to think. I didn't want to live anymore.
Until one day, I finally had the guts to talk to a close friend about it, and she became somewhat like a psychiatrist for me. That's how it was all year, whenever I had something to talk about (and I had much to talk about to her, good or bad), I went to her for advise, her consultation, just for her to listen. And I stopped writing in my journal.
By the end of 8th grade, I still had those mood swings and now, but I wasn't suicidal anymore, and I wasn't going nuts, keeping it all in. I looked at my old journal, in which I used to go to for comfort every single day in 8th grade, at the end of the school year in the summer. I took a sharpie and scribbled in "CURSED JOURNAL" on every single page.
Later on in my freshman year, I found my old journal again and looked through it. What a different I was like in writing. And what a different person I was like then and now. I did not wish to cherish this memory though. The next day, I handed the journal to my friend and asked her to burn it or dispose of it somehow. And after that, I never saw it again.
When I started the Baron Banner Blogs, I was uneasy about starting something like a journal again, but it's probably the best things that's helped me let things off my chest. I felt free, open, and honest to express myself just like any other journal. It was public too and my loyal peers gave me great advise and comfort to my blogs, and I felt similarity when others write about problems similar to mine.
From now on, I've gotten myself to avoid trying to bottle up all my emotions into a bottle. In the end, the emotions will fly around out of control if they become too much to handle all by myself.
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