Whitney’s Wistful Wednesdays


I mentioned in one of my header pages that I’ve been a very diligent record keeper since I was a little girl.  Every few years I’ll get in decluttering mode and in the process will come across my box of journals, take one out, read several entries, and put the box back exactly where it was.

One year ago, almost exactly, I stopped writing in a journal.  It was at a point where I had a million things on my mind but absolutely no motivation and writing just became a burden.

Last week as I was setting up my home work space for my new class, I realized that last year’s journal was still sitting in a pile of books on my desk.  I picked it up, wiped the dust off, and opened it to see what the last entry date was.


Monday, January 14, 2013

I don’t know what to do.  I’m miserable and it feels like that’s my usual lately.  Subconsciously I think I write with the intention that if someone reads this after I’m gone they’ll finally realize why I was so crazy. 

All I know is I can’t go on this way.  I have basically no quality of life, its just survival.  And I’m barely doing that because now I’m getting sick and starting to have MS symptoms.  I don’t feel like I can talk to Aaron about it anymore.  I’ve exhausted all my excuses for my behavior and I feel like I’m just crying wolf.  Nothing I say carries any weight, its just a lot of whining that just makes my family unhappy and scared to be around me.

I’m scared to be around me.

I keep thinking about my grandpa’s first wife who ended up in a crazy hospital and he divorced her and she never saw her kids again.  I’m really terrified I’m heading in that direction and I have absolutely no control over it.  This is not my choice. 

If I could choose, I’d be a loving wife and mother who tries her best but doesn’t panic if the house isn’t clean or dinner isn’t ready because spending time with family is priority.  I can hardly even see the things my kids are doing right in front of me.  I’ve just got blinders on to my own destruction.  I pray with all my heart that tomorrow will be a better day and that I’ll feel stupid for even writing this.


Well I do feel sort of stupid for writing that, but I don’t feel stupid for sharing it.  Obviously that is how I was feeling at the time and I’m not feeling that way anymore.  Which means something I’m doing is working, or my prayers were answered.  Or both.

I’ve decided to share entries from my journals regularly and I’m doing this for several reasons.  Most of all its because rereading these unabridged versions of my experiences gives me a sense of continuity in my life, rather than compartmentalizing life into “the good old days” and “survival mode.  Days like January 14th pushed me to make changes and shaped who I am becoming.  I also have many days (like May 6th, 2006) that were wonderful, perfect days and were reflected in the way I wrote that day.  Those, I want to remind myself of.

Let’s hope that I can learn something from the bad experiences and not repeat them, and remind myself of the great days to help me get through the not so great.

3 thoughts on “Whitney’s Wistful Wednesdays

  1. You are so brave! If someday you find all of my old journals in that trunk in my hallway if I don’t get around to disposing of them first (I guess I’m assuming I won’t die accidentally) please don’t open them, just burn them. I know it’ll be tempting to want to read them but please don’t. On second thought, how sad would it be to die without anyone every really knowing you? So go for it I guess…

    But if I can just add this… my writing has become 100% more positive since my kids left home and I can finally look back on just how amazing my life has been. 🙂

    Thanks again for another very thoughtful blog. Hope you’re not getting tired of my commenting.

    • I never get tired of your comments! You’re one of my only “commenters” 🙂 thank you for the go ahead to read your diaries, I look forward to it 😉

      Sent from my iPhone


  2. Whitney – you are amazing. I don’t think you realize the wonderful things you are accomplishing one small thing at a time. It might seem ordinary but nothing that deals with relationships with others in ordinary. People matter. You matter. I worry about going crazy too, sometimes life in overwhelming and some days I feel like I am losing my mind, control of my own life. Some days I feel like a completely different person than I know I am inside and that mental illness is having its way with me like it did to my grandmother Ida. I feel so bad for her and how her life turned out. What happened to Ida is tragic. I do know though, I got her PB, is that God loved her and that he had big plans for her and maybe her choices didn’t allow her to accomplish what she could have or maybe she did and we don’t know because we have no records but I know if we trust in God and allow him to help us through our hard times, while doing what we can to help ourselves, that he will turn us into something more incredible than what we can imagine for ourselves. Day by dad it doesn’t seem like I am making much progress but when you have the perspective to look back those little positive things add up and create a masterpiece that is do complex and complete that we can only stand in awe at what He has done.

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