I am not the most consistent journal writer, although there have been periods when I’ve been really good. I call myself an all or nothing girl. I’m either 100% or 0. The same has applied to my journal keeping habits. When I was an exchange student in Belgium, I wrote everyday, same with my mission. But otherwise, my journal writing has been limited to those times when I needed to write and get all of my feelings out so that I wouldn’t explode. Translation: they are very fragmented and negative and depressing. Now that I have my little blog, I’m pretty good about recording things. I still write in a journal. Not consistently, but when there are things that are too personal for cyberspace I go to my journal.

So, here’s the dilemma. Having written in a journal pretty consistently last year (at least during a good portion of it), I have a record of my life in glorious detail. I haven’t been sure what to do. I’ve read some passages now and then, trying to make sense of my life and what happened over the last year. In reading it, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want those memories. Not in writing anyway. I made a lot of mistakes that I don’t care to remember in excruciating detail. Isn’t the whole point of learning a lesson so that you don’t have to relive it? It’s not like I want to forget the lessons I learned. I have no desire to repeat them. But I just don’t think I need the play by play.

I know there are people out there who would shudder at the thought of destroying a personal record, no matter how painful it is. I thought I was one of those people. Yesterday, I proved myself wrong. I’ve been thinking about doing it for months, but yesterday I finally thought about it when I was able to do something about it. I destroyed my journal from last year. A relatively easy task when it’s all soft copy. Just a few clicks of the mouse, and voila. Free at last!

I wonder at people who hold on to things that are negative. Is it possible to ever get out of the swamp if you are always swimming around in the mud? Don’t mistake me for someone who wants to pretend that her life has been perfect and she has never made a mistake. I’m not trying to hide anything, but there are ways to record things that I think serve a better purpose. So, my goal now is to write the type of journal that I feel would be useful and reflects who I am.

Am I lying to myself? Does this make me dishonest? I don’t know. I don’t think so. The truth is I don’t care. What I do know is that I feel much better knowing that those words are gone, that I can never read them again. No regrets…at least not about erasing the journal.