I ripped my diary out of my friends hand. Embarrassed at the words she was reading out loud in the most mocking voice ever. I won’t forget that feeling that encroached upon my soul as it winced in shock that the words that were meant to be private were being said aloud.
I actually do not write in my diary consistently. The same way that I don’t appear to be writing consistently in this blog. Yet I find that in stressful, traumatic and difficult situations I love to write things out on paper, because it feels like the weight is leaving my head and being left behind in ink point. Something concrete that I can fold away and forget about or if I’m feeling more dramatic simply rip up or burn.
I’m pretty sure this isn’t an unusual thing to do and people probably recommend writing things down on paper when the memories or feelings are too much for your brain to handle. I never wrote in my diary with the intention of reading it back though.
Sometimes when I feel highly charged towards a person or about a situation that they have been involved in I find it therapeutic to write them a letter. Like the diary entries, these are never intended to be read out loud or given to said person. However, as with the far few and between diary entries it’s so calming to write it down because it’s like you’re unloading it onto something else. It’s almost better than telling another human, because you can never be definitely certain that they won’t tell someone else. In fact, ink and paper has no capabilities of doing this which in my view makes it far more safe than telling another person in confidentiality.
The problem is that words written on paper can appear to be more spiteful than the words you say to someone. You can deny saying something negative about someone/thing because there is a lack of physical evidence. You may look like a little bit of a liar, but isn’t everyone guilty of this every now and again? What you cannot do is deny you wrote something on paper. It is there. In solid ink. Clear cut evidence, and this can hurt peoples feelings way more than intended when you wrote something down to be calming for you.
I think my point is that I was scared when my friend read my diary because I didn’t know myself what I had written in there. There is never anything malicious. Just my own raw emotions. So my conclusion is I was either scared of hearing back my own raw emotions or I was scared of others reactions to my true feelings. I think both. Maybe part of my problem is that I don’t want to or allow myself to feel my own feelings/thoughts/emotions which makes it easier to pretend that I’m feeling a different (and often much happier) way.