I had an opendiary back in the early 2000’s. I didn’t think I deleted my old diary, but for the life of me, I can not remember the email address and honestly, if i did, I probably don’t have access to them anymore.
When I started I was in my mid to late 20’s. I lived in NYC (I think my user name was QueenofNYC) and I worked in publishing and I left that once I got an inheritance. Then I quit. When I was 30. I don’t remember if I continued my diary after I left the Publishing House. I remember reading a diary here by a woman that I adored….and then when I worked in Publishing, I learned when I worked at the publishing house, the diary was actually a work of fiction and ended up being a published book called Men In Kilts. A girl who I followed made the news cause she was fired from her job because they linked her diary and some inflammatory statements she made about her job. I remember reading diaries from other people in NYC and they lived in such a different city than me. One of late night roof top parties at the Soho House. I lived the life of a starving actor who was doing the bare minimum to call herself that cause I honestly felt I wasn’t good enough. So easiest way to prevent rejection…don’t push. I am one of the forgotten ones: A Gen Xer.
I remember when televisions were so big they were made of solid wood and took four people to move due to the weight. I remember rotary phones and telling my mom I wanted to learn shorthand like her. I was awkward but wanted to much to fit in.
It is only now, in my mid 40’s, that I realize I may never fit in. Like most Americans, my story is one of loss, mental health issues and then very privileged white girl middle class moving down to the working poor story.
I find myself in a place I don’t want to be right now. Both physically, physiologically, emotionally and spiritually.
I really am not sure what I need to do, but I have to start being an active participant in this thing known as My Life. For some reason I was drawn to this idea. I know I sounded overly pretentious when I write, and I want to smack myself, but I am coming at this as honestly and with as much hubris as I can.