My Journal, My Chronicle: Part 1 - Why I Am Writing This...

Why Should Anyone Read This?

It's really hard to decide on the order in which I should present this information. I can't really explain why anyone would want to read this as I've had an issue as to why I would even want to write it. It took a lot of thinking, a lot of working past weak will and a lack of confidence just to get to this point.

Why would anyone want to read the writings of someone, like myself, whining about their life?

This thought made me realize that I can't make this a long 'whine' about my life. That instead it really needs to be more of a chronicle of who I am, how I became that person, how I view myself, others and the world around me, and what I expected from the world at different phases of my life.

To make it into something someone would truly want to read, I need to make it relatable when I can and understandable to anyone who would care to read it. When there are parts that some if not most would not understand, and there would be many, it needs to be clear as to what I mean and why I felt I needed to write it down.

I hope anyone who bothers will at least enjoy it, and come away with something… anything.

Why I Am Writing This

I've been wracking my brain trying to answer this myself. As to write it, I have to be able to answer it.

I've come up with two reasons.

Reason one is; as I get older and I realize the issues I've had with the world and what they've done to me, I have realized that the trauma that I've suffered has robbed me of many memories of my life.

Most recently I've been abandoned by the people who I came to believe were my family. I'm still reeling as to why it happened. And I am trying my hardest to understand. As I contemplate it, I've realized that the trauma it has caused me has already removed many memories. Joyful memories I've had over the years with this family.

As every trauma I've suffered, it has replaced what I am assuming were good memories with the trauma I am creating for myself in trying to cope with situations that most people deal with every day. In fact, I realize that my problems and the traumas I have to deal with are often trivial compared to what most people in this world have to deal with.

It causes me a lot of guilt, and more trauma. But it does little to ease the damage the trauma causes. Because of the trauma I have had to regularly deal with, I feel that I've lost most if not all my life. Left with a patchwork mind, filled with memories I've often made up…

So I am writing this to hopefully reclaim some of it.

Second reason is; I am hoping that anyone who cares to read this and has similar issues, or knows someone in their life in a similar frame of mind can be helped by it. I was raised in a time where the problems I have were just being noticed by society. The same problems my parents had to deal with that made them less than capable parents…

The experiences of my youth made me very avoidant. Unable to acknowledge my issues with anyone. Unable to associate with my family due to the traumas I had suffered due to very marginal neglect.

If this journal… or whatever it is, can help one person cope with the world better, then it was worth writing.

What The Fuck Is This?

This journal, in no particular order, will contain my history as far as I can remember to my present self. It will contain musings on how I came to be who I am, think what I think, etc.

I will start out with a history of myself. From what little I can remember of my childhood, to my current situation and how I got here. I will try to distinguish between actual memories I have, and memories of narrations.

I have a many instances where I have had to remove legitimate memories and replace them with either history that I was told by people who had some form of experience with my life, or lies that I have told for years to fill in the holes or hide the shame of results that were often beyond my control.

I am hoping that this is me, as raw as I can give it. All truths revealed, all lies removed. Unmasked.

As I've stated earlier, I've recently separated from a part of my life that I like to look at as the last remanence of having to live masked, under a shelter of lies and half-truths. And while I would have loved to have cleared all of it up with them and had them remain my family, I also see that this parting of ways was most likely necessary for me to let go of that former self.

This journal will contain my truths, my lies, my mistakes. I have very little to do these days other than write it. So as long as I can bring myself to do so, I will.

Each section will be posted as soon as I finish it.