Here’s the first assignment I turned in for my creative writing class. It helps put, for me, into perspective what having a journal means. Well, some of it LOL. I’m finding myself adding things that I didn’t for my class.
This journal is a way to express myself. Here on these pages I can allow what I am feeling to leak out. Things that I cannot say to my friends or family I can freely allow to pour forth onto paper. This is my friend, my confidant. I can spill my deepest darkest fears without the fear of being judged. I can allow myself to be transported to another place, temporarily free of the fears, thoughts and memories that plague and haunt me to this day.
Within these pages I can let my secret dreams and fantasies come to life without the crippling fear of being ridiculed or scorned. It is a place to allow me to explore what they may mean and perhaps mold them into the next book or short story that might be lurking around the subconscious of my mind. This is my safety net; I know that it will be here when all else fails.
Memories can be shared once they are given life upon the pages of my journal. Good and bad, they can and are recorded for posterity. It will serve as a tangible reminder of just how far I have come and will help guide and shape my future. It will allow me to learn from my past and apply it to better my future.
My journal is an asset and a treasure. It may not mean anything to anyone else but to me it is priceless. It is a piece of me, one that no one has ever seen. It will be a lasting physical piece of me for my daughter and son to remember me by once I have left this Earth. It will a piece to put my family at ease and help them to remember all that I was and all that I had hoped to be.