Naturally, I shared this discovery with my parents so they could feel equally bad about my ruined childhood. I also occasionally alluded to “what I had been through” without specifically mentioning what this actually was, which leads me to believe I might want to check police reports to see if I had survived childhood imprisonment/torture of any kind. I might have been referring to braces.
What is evident:
- The high quantity and variety of clubs, teams, and activities joined and almost immediately dropped out of stays at a pretty consistent level throughout my entire life
- The sheer number of boys mentioned from the moment I learned to write onward is astounding, and I have no idea who over half of these people are
- My confusion surrounding the word “boyfriend” becomes pretty evident in earlier monologues, particularly in grade one when various (remarkably senior) male actors are mentioned
- I changed the spelling of my name three times.
- “I LOVE VOLLEYBALL! VOLLEYBALL VOLLEYBALL VOLLEYBALL!!!!!”
- “Oh no my pen is dying I have to find oh here I found a new pen sorry it’s blue!”
- “MY MOM SMOCKED ONCE [sic]!!!” (She continues to deny this allegation.)
- “I don’t understand how I can live in this house. There are bugs everywhere. A jaguar can’t scare me, but bugs can.” 5/17/? (I had encountered many jaguars in the wilds of Highland Park, Illinois, none of which scared me at all.)
- “Things to do every day: 1. Floss teeth 2. 8-Minute Abs 3. Look for guys 4. Practice guitar”