Welcome to 2006.

Are you all budding with hope for what could be?

It might surprise you to know that I am, a little.

I mean, I've learned a lot this past year, about myself and about how I function in the world, and that can only help right?

So 2006 won't be perfect, but maybe it will be a tiny amount better because maybe I'm a tiny amount more aware.

Then again, maybe not.

I was thinking about what I could do this year that might really change things for me, that might make me a better person, that could lead to some personal growth and even possibly make some more realistic steps toward the career goal that started as a small joke in the back of my mind but has turned into something that jumps up and down in front of me at least twice a day until I promise to give it more thought later.

The answer to both was the same. I should start keeping a jounal.

Do you find that as strange as I do?

I have 2 live journals and 3 diaryland diaries. This is the one I write in the most and I'd say I write quite a bit, but still I feel the need to keep a journal.

The thing is that there are things I would never put here, and I think those things should go somewhere and I think about how healthy it would be to keep a journal and how much that journal would support my writing in the future and then I realize what keeps me from both personal growth and a real writing career.

Both absolutely depend on getting in touch with the dark stuff.

My dark stuff scares the crap out of me.

Yeah, I know, everyone's dark stuff scares the crap out of them, that's why it's the dark stuff. And I know that when you drag that stuff out into the light it loses it's grip on you. That's all well and good but still...

Writing it down makes it so much more real doesn't it?

One of my online diaries is locked. No one knows about it and it's in a name that no one would even remotely associate with me (so much so that I frequently forget the name of it) but even so, I lock it from being read, just in case.

This was to be my deep dark journal. The one where I said the things that no one wanted to read, the place where I said the things I wouldn't want my mother to find, or my friends, or anyone. The thing is? I feel so guilty about having those feelings to start with that writing them only makes it worse.

So I'm back to square one I think. I'm not sure if I want what I think I want enough to go through what's required.

I didn't know that in 2005, but does knowing it really change anything?

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