There's this text document in a folder I never use anymore but was never bothered to delete it called "My Thoughts.txt". The first entry dates back to July of 2021 where I was venting about a lot of things I forgot were even problems. It was weird looking back as some of the things I complained about then are problems I still have with myself that I've buried so deep into the back of my head that I don't even think about them anymore. There's a few entries in the document, some longer than others, but as I scrolled down I slowly start to piece some things together.
The way it's written is just like how I write stories now (minus the overuse of commas and semi-colons). I write depressing and often concerning and traumatic stories in the first person all the time and it was weird to think that this wasn't some story with some fictional character: this was me, a confused and worried- (well I would say child but there isn't much time difference between then and now). It seems irrational to present day me why I was worried about such things, but as the dates on each entry get more recent I see the story morph from some kid wondering what drugs feels like to a panicked mess who doesn't even know what they're doing anymore.
The last entry was on the 10th of April 2022. It ended abruptly with me calling myself an idiot because one of my friends knows one of my darkest secrets. After that day I never felt like I needed to rant on some file. Was I fixed? Or was I just used to compressing my feelings into a mental .zip document now? I don't know. My friends are concerned about me but now I just brush it aside and try to forget about it...
Wow the way I wrote this makes it seem like it's some short story from a book.
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