Diary 2
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November 24, 1995

Diary 2 / 14-years-old / Ohio
It’s the first time I encounter death at an age when I understand it. I’m upset that a family cat was put to sleep, and I’m blaming my parents. Her name was Noel, and since Christmas is right around the corner, I’m seeing “Noel” written on just about everything. I’m also pretty bummed about being young. Go figure. 🙂

November 24, 1995
November 24, 1995

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Diary 2
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April 27 + 28 1996

Diary 2 / 14-years-old / Reading, Ohio
I’m probably depressed, but I’m a kid and I don’t have that word. Without a resource for getting help, I try to understand the emptiness by writing; and when that doesn’t help, I try asking god to give my feelings back. It seemed a solid step up from the wishing-on-a-star route I normally took.
A friend of mine who works with children pointed out there aren’t a lot of depictions of childhood depression in art and the media. Please feel free to share this with any adult struggling to talk with their child, or any *child* who may find writing to be an outlet.

Me, 13-years-old
Me, 13-years-old

I’m reading these entries as a woman in her 30s.  But—especially considering the topic—I really want to facilitate remembering how very young I was.  This is the girl who wrote that entry.

~and catch up with the  February 25, 1995 entry for the backstory on my crush, and see below for my early experience with a therapist in my 20s~

April 27 + 28, 1996
April 27 + 28, 1996
April 27, 2008

And exactly 12 years later, I visit a therapist named Joyce for the second time. The first time was, by my admission, hard and weird. I thought about canceling our second appointment, but I go—and I’m so glad I did. She became my therapist and life-support for years. Below is my reaction to our second meeting.
April 27, 2008 email to Giovanni 
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April 27, 2008 email to Giovanni
April 27, 2008 email to Giovanni
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