A Writer's Dilemma

It never occured to me to keep a diary growing up, but when I went to Israel for a ten-month adventure, I decided to record my experiences. Later, I noticed that I was filling my book with drawings, rather than written entries. I didn't use a journal again until 1998 when I began therapy. My therapist suggested that at the end of each day I make note of ten things I felt grateful for. And thus began my long-winded self-improvement project of journaling.

I discovered that processing my emotions and thoughts through writing provided me with self-understanding, an outlet for intensity, and some solace. Today, I have about 70 filled journals, non of which I have ever gone back to read. This was a conscious decision based on the fact that my decade-plus relationship with journals was mostly filled by fearfulness, depression, anxiousness, and sadness. I lived for about a decade dealing with severe clinical depression and anxiety, poverty, and lonliness. Since I am always in the process of recovering from depression, I have never felt so far beyond it that I could revisit these painful words without being, well, depressed. I decided that my health was more important than my curiousity of reading the journals and risking more pain.

I have always thought that I would write a memoir someday and that I would use these journals to remember endless details and interpretations of events to do so. However, I am making a big move soon and have been streamlining my belongings. I am only taking what I can fit in the car. And those journals would take up a lot of prime real estate in the back seat. This move has already entailed throwing objects and papers away that I feel are no longer necessary for me to carry around. And getting rid of these has lightened my load mentally, as well.

The question is: Will I regret throwing away my journals in another five years when I am ready to read them and use them in my writings? I don't know what the answer is, but I'm taking a leap of faith. I am trusting my mind and heart that the parts of my life that I need to remember later will be right inside of me. I'm letting the journals go. It's time.