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Mar. 23rd, 2009 09:19 amThis has been one of those mornings when I keep making ridiculous promises to myself. "Okay, today I'm going to finish that second infant sweater. And then I'm going to start writing in my livejournal, and I'm gonna get back to writing every day. And then I'm going to finish knitting my mom's shawl, and Kayla's blanket, and then make lots of baby things for Kayla too. And then I'm going to write some scientific articles and submit them all over. And I'm going to call my dad and get him to tell me about his life so I can start writing his biography finally. And then..."
Augh.
The one I keep coming back to is the urge to get back to writing in my journal every day. I miss doing that, and I miss being able to look back at any given day after five years and being able to see what I was going through and how I dealt with it. I've been terrible lately at actually putting ME into the journal; it's all been straight facts and very dry recordings of happenings. I guess it keeps getting harder and harder to be honest with a public journal. I don't know why that is... but I feel like, as I get older, I keep being pushed further and further into my shell and I want to share less and less with the world in general. I hate that tendency. I'm traditionally an open and emotional person, and I interact with the world through feelings and perceptions. It's just the last two or three years that have changed me to interact more with cold logic and a hard external shell. Damn you, Connecticut. Damn you for hardening me.
The funny thing is that someone this week accused me of "changing" over the last year--as if this were a terrible thing. I find this hysterical, because the further I get away from Yale, the more I feel like myself. Since the moment I dropped out, I've been getting stronger, more confident, happier, more introspective... and I've had more and more energy, willpower, and drive. I used to be such a ridiculously passionate person. I miss that. It was like I had a constant fire blazing inside me, driving me to do all sorts of amazing things, and it went out when I moved to Connecticut. I should have known immediately that I'd made the wrong choice... but without that inner motivation, it was hard to change my decision and leave.
Anyway, I've hashed all this out over and over again. No need for it right now.
I'm not really sure what the point of this entry is (am I ever?). Maybe I'm just recognizing another small step in the recovery of my personality. That little inner motivating voice is coming back, and it wants me to get out and DO things, and MAKE things, and be creative. It's a good thing.
Now I just have to remember how to focus it....
Augh.
The one I keep coming back to is the urge to get back to writing in my journal every day. I miss doing that, and I miss being able to look back at any given day after five years and being able to see what I was going through and how I dealt with it. I've been terrible lately at actually putting ME into the journal; it's all been straight facts and very dry recordings of happenings. I guess it keeps getting harder and harder to be honest with a public journal. I don't know why that is... but I feel like, as I get older, I keep being pushed further and further into my shell and I want to share less and less with the world in general. I hate that tendency. I'm traditionally an open and emotional person, and I interact with the world through feelings and perceptions. It's just the last two or three years that have changed me to interact more with cold logic and a hard external shell. Damn you, Connecticut. Damn you for hardening me.
The funny thing is that someone this week accused me of "changing" over the last year--as if this were a terrible thing. I find this hysterical, because the further I get away from Yale, the more I feel like myself. Since the moment I dropped out, I've been getting stronger, more confident, happier, more introspective... and I've had more and more energy, willpower, and drive. I used to be such a ridiculously passionate person. I miss that. It was like I had a constant fire blazing inside me, driving me to do all sorts of amazing things, and it went out when I moved to Connecticut. I should have known immediately that I'd made the wrong choice... but without that inner motivation, it was hard to change my decision and leave.
Anyway, I've hashed all this out over and over again. No need for it right now.
I'm not really sure what the point of this entry is (am I ever?). Maybe I'm just recognizing another small step in the recovery of my personality. That little inner motivating voice is coming back, and it wants me to get out and DO things, and MAKE things, and be creative. It's a good thing.
Now I just have to remember how to focus it....
