A few weeks ago I ran into my 10th grade English teacher, Ms. Hansen. We spoke briefly and then went on our way. As I walked away I remember how life altering her class was for me. I know that sounds so much bigger than it should doesn't it, "life altering"? Really Nina? It was just a sophomore English Honors course. Yes it was LIFE ALTERING for me. She made us write journals. The last time I had written in a journal was, I want to say at 10 yrs old and then I threw it away because it wasn't "cool to have a diary"! We read "Tuesdays with Morrie" by Mitch Albom and after reading the story we had to write in these journals. I had no choice but to do the weekly assignment because we were being graded on it!
I had no idea what to write about in my first entry so I wrote a few class notes (loL) I confessed my love for the two guys I liked at the time (wow loL!!!) and finally about how hungry I was getting and ready for the lunch bell to ring! I got so used to writing x amount of pages per week that once we finished the assignment at the end of the semester, I just continued to write - about more significant things now (but still confessing my love for crushes loL)! It was such an outlet for me, I enjoyed it. I would sit in my room for hours, literally, and write in my journal. I would continually go to walmart and buy 2 or 3 composition notebooks at a time so if ran out of space in one I would just continue in the next. I continued writing regularly throughout high school and my first year of college (I believe I have about 14 or 15 volumes).
Starting my second year of college I didn't write as often, partly because I didn't have the time and when I did I just didn't feel like spending my free time writing the other reason was because I didn't need a journal to be my outlet anymore. I had someone in my life who was there for me. To listen to me. Someone other than my family members. Someone I cared for deeply. I expressed my thoughts and feelings through my voice, not my pen anymore. The problem with that is, all that time is lost. The lessons I learned, the adventures I faced, the things said...all are gone. I don't remember all of them and neither does that person. When I write things down I have a record, something I can come back to and see my improvements (or lack of improvements, I can see what I need to work on). I also realize that "person" whoever that person my be at the time for me...or you! may not always be there. Whether it be on purpose or accidental - I think I want to start writing again. I miss writing. It was healthy for me.
Good night all.
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