Even If It Sucks


1. Diary's Beginning

Dear Diary,

I went to see my Therapist today. It went okay, but I still feel like my depression isn't going anywhere. The day started like all my other days: wake up, get ready, eat, and leave for my daily visits. Everyday, the doctor thinks of something new that may help me. Today he thought about a diary. I lost interest in his ideas right after the tenth one failed like the nine before. He told my step dad to take me shopping to get a journal. The doctor thought if I was the one picking it I would like it more and be more engaged with the whole idea. I was open minded. After my appointment we drove over to Staples and looked at all the journals they had.

I knew that if I picked a certain color, the doctor would compare the color of my choosing to some sort of emotion that linked to the way I feel inside. If I picked blue it would mean I'm hiding this sadness that is unable to be felt by others, or if I picked yellow it would mean I feel anxious with the way I feel about things, or if I picked white it would mean I feel as if my thoughts and emotions are just floating around an empty void and don't mean a thing, or if I picked red it would mean my depression is revolving around anger and hatred towards something or someone from my past.

I decided to go with a black, with white speckles, spiral notebook. I saw a pull off sticker that had a quote, "Write something today even if it sucks". I guess that quote is up for interpretation. Either for those who write stories and are afraid of their writings being horrible, or write about your day even if it's not worth writing about. The second one is my interpretation of the quote. I also got a pack of pencils, and erasers, and a sharpener.

I got home and started to write in it-that's the story of the day up until now. Nothing special. I think I spent a half an hour just staring at the notebook. I was clueless. I never had a diary, never wrote something deep, never was creative... I thought, what would my therapist like to see when he reads it tomorrow? One, how my day started; two, why I picked my diary; three, why I think I have the diary; four, what for? I know I got the diary because when I start to write about how I feel, I'll unlock different feelings that will lead to the way I feel this way. Once that happens it will be easier to open up to myself privately, and understand how I react to things and why I do certain things.

In the beginning of summer I talked to my step dad and told him I had been feeling depressed lately. Doctors would ask, is it because of my mother's death? No that was three years ago, and I wouldn't let that affect me now. I honestly think there has to be a hidden reason why I'm always down on myself all the time.

Dear Diary,

I went to see my Therapist today. He asked if I had started to write in my journal, and if I brought it in today. I said yes to both. He asked if I could let him read my first entry. I said sure. I handed him the book. He chucked to himself as he lowered his glasses at the pages-like it was entertaining. "You seem to know my secrets." Was the first thing he said after closing my diary. He assured me that in order for this process to work, I have to give it time. Time? Well, he said I'm going to be denial with my first couple entries. Denial? Well, he meant that I wouldn't open up with deep things until a certain occasion rises which will allow me to, indeed, open up. Which that being said he wanted to halt the daily visits and only meet on Fridays. Okay, but this was the only thing getting me out of the house. I have no plans for the rest of this summer. Also, no friends since I moved in the middle of January, and didn't go to school since the school year was going to be ending soon.

Rest assured, I went online after my visit today and searched for activities I could do. Surprised that the school I will be attending is having a summer education program. I brought the information to my step dad and he was extremely okay with it. Ever since I told him about my depression, he's been okay with doing anything as long it will make me feel happy. So I was not surprised when he said yes. He enrolled me into the program. I got a little giddy when the forms asked what classes I would like to take-like I was actually starting my first day of school.

I'm definitely not doing anything math related. I'm dyslexic so numbers and letters confuse my little brain greatly. But oddly enough, I love to read-just not out loud. When ever I speak out loud, I mush words together, I mix words up. My brain is much faster than my mouth so its a mess every time I open my mouth. So, in the four spots I had open, I selected an Art class, Reading&Annotating class, Creative Writing, and a Science Class. Of course these are just jump start classes to prepare you, but if I wanted to prepare myself I would have picked a math class. Doing so would only make me feel even more depressed. At least I would actually know why I was: math.

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