Revelling in Nostalgia of the Worst Kind

So, I was cleaning up my room today, trying to figure out what to bring to college, what to keep in my room, and what to throw away. I was sorting through some old journals, and I found one from junior year. I started reading through it and I was astounded at my complete idiocy, but also at my oblivion, as well. Yet, I still wanted to record some of my thoughts from younger, more naive days for posterity, if nothing else, before I throw them away to never see the light of day again. Here goes nothing:

3/14/2011
Probably the greatest sin of high school would be stealing another girl's boyfriend. So why do I find myself wanting to commit this sin? He's cute and funny-without-trying and sweet. And taken. There's that. But I don't think the two will last very long because, A)They've only been going out for two weeks and, B)They've been [on] three dates with, C)No physical contact whatsoever. Maybe she's a prude? Nervous? Naive? Noobish?-yes, apparently "noobish" was in my vocabulary as a junior-
In the looks department, I totally have her beat. And I'm being perfectly honest. I seem to have a slightly better connection with him and [friend I am keeping anonymous] totally said we should go out! Plus, he abandoned his workload for me!(A heart instead of a dot beneath the exclamation point to show my extreme infatuation) I haven't seriously felt this way in a while. I truly feel like it could go somewhere(It didn't). If it does, I have to be sure to keep my secrets locked away. The last time I "beared" [bared] my heart, it didn't go so well...

Thoughts? I remember this guy. I remember him seriously not being that attractive, me having a crush on him while he was dating a girl a year younger than us, who was pretty cool, actually. I don't know why I liked him... I think it was because he showed me a small amount of attention... He wore too much hair gel, and I was really, really insecure. The last sentence just referred to my douchebag of an ex-boyfriend, who kind of fucked me up/over, and never really told me why we broke up, which sucks, but I was a major drama queen and, again, majorly insecure so...

Okay, here's another journal entry that just makes me cringe:

3/16/2011
Okay, this is agony! We were in the room together on the computer and our legs were touching. Then he was all like, "our legs are touching," but neither one of us moved. Then, he said, "This is awkward," so I moved my leg. Gah! Unfair! Then, later, he totally waited for me while I was in the bathroom!(Soooo romantic!!!) And touched my hair. And... ugh! I feel like I'm over-analyzing again(YOU TOTALLY ARE) but whatever! Exasperation! This is what I hate about guys! Just dump her! Ah!

Alright, so I just really sadden myself. And I'll probably be saddened in the future when I look back on my blogs and journals. I'll probably just cry buckets, because I really am a pretty sad human being. This year that I'm writing-the school year-was also a pretty bad time. I was in Group and I was dealing with that...
These next ones, I actually like, because they show a side of me that I know better now:

3/25/2011
My heart races all the time. It's like I'm nervous or terrified about something, but I don't know what. It's not like I really have much to look forward to in my life, but still it flutters in my chest. This makes me worry that I have an anxiety disorder. I think that's just because of what we've been studying in psych. Group kind of makes me feel like I'm outside of everything because I want to ta[l]k about it and at the same time I don't won't can't. I have high hopes for it, and am even excited about next Thursday. I need to take pictures now.

3/28/2011
When I first found out that she'd had sex, something changed in me, in a huge way. When I saw her, all I could picture was her doing it with him. It was like she changed. And it sucked, because she was my girl. Every guy she liked could kiss and touch her all they wanted, but in the end, I had her soul. And that was all that mattered. Then she did it, and he took my place. And now they're done, but he's still there, clutching at her soul. I couldn't figure out why I was so upset discovering this. And then I realized it: I was jealous. Not just about the sex thing, that she can [could] just have it and it doesn't [didn't] matter. That she can let guys touch her and she doesn't need copious amounts of therapy for it. I'm stuck. Stuck reliving that stupid, goddamn, moment all the time. Even now. Especially now. Always. And I hate it. Hate that every time sex comes up in a topic, my first thought is it. I think about sex all the time, but actually doing it? Actually allowing another human to get to know me in the most intimate way possible? Terrifying. But I'm so scared that I'll get left behind. That I'll miss it. I hate this.

Well, shit. I think it's definitely crystal-clear here that I was working through a lot of crap. A LOT. I'm happy to say that Group has helped me so, so much, and that I have since worked through the residual stuff I wrote about. Mostly. Knowing exactly who this entry was about when I reread it freaked me out. I think that this, right here, might have been the moment when I knew, somewhere deep down, that I was completely gay. I didn't know that I had a moment, an exact time when it happened. And I documented it. Proud.

My next sentiments are exactly like those that I just shared. But these are from last year, so I guess my thinking hasn't really changed too much:

Probably around early November(After Rainbow Creek)
Looking through my past journal entries is interesting. I can see what was happening to me at the time, and feel the emotions that I had whilst writing. I feel, however, that not much has changed. I mean, some things in my life have, but for the most part, I'm still the same fat, weight-obsessed, insecure girl that I was about six months ago. Okay, maybe more like 8 months. I still feel stuck, like I'm playing Candyland and my piece has landed on the Molasses Swamp. I have to keep waiting to draw a color card, but there's no color card showing up.(I still think that this is a REALLY AWESOME euphemism) I'm back in group, but I was feeling this way before group. And now my thoughts are spilling into my writing for school, thus, this...

My next journal entries are not ones that I should be posting on the internet... So I won't. Trust me, no one wants to read that shit anyway, and since I was a minor, it would probably be qualified as child porn, so, eww...

Okay, after that, it's just sad. But it was definitely interesting taking a peek into the life I previously led. I guess what I'm saying is, Good riddance! I never want to feel ostracized for being me, for loving who I love, ever again. Especially not by myself. This year is going to be so fucking different, I'm going to be so FUCKING DIFFERENT. I felt the need to document this, as my time is ebbing away by the hour. I've got two days left at home. Two. I can't wait to leave my old world behind.