Hidden Diary

Thursday 3-12-02:

I have woke up every morning like I have for years. Exhausted, as if I had ran a marathon in my sleep. Waking up to a burning headache that makes me nauseous, my whole body in agony. Knowing I might need a nap later on in the day bc all night all I do is toss and turn ; but knowing I won’t take one simply because there is just to much to do and very little time.

I struggle to get myself out of bed, get ready for the long draining day. Work, spouse, pets, coworkers, everyone looks at me and sees Wonder Woman! An efficient young lady, content with my life. I just wish when I look in the mirror I could see something other than a failure.

I’m hardly domesticated, I have a past. Don’t we all though? I try to be a trophy wife but also keep my dignity, my independence , make a paycheck. Taunted by the feeling i’m never doing enough. As a wife in the back of my head I have a constant nagging voice asking me “Is the house clean, did you do the laundry? Did you go through Pinterest to find a new recipe for dinner tonight? “ You know your putting on some weight. You should skip lunch and go for a run instead. Your husband is going to find someone skinnier than you if you don’t stay in shape” “ Oh my God and that hair! When is the last time you deep conditioned? Time to set a hair appointment ASAP! Those nails set an appointment for those claws too, you need to keep your appearance up, your husband will find someone prettier than you!” Just shut her up already! I get it, why won’t these voices ever just stop?!

Yesterday I threw up during my morning cardio. 5 a.m every damn morning for the past 10 years. Same morning run , same route. This donut lady tries to offer me a donut every time I pass her shop. A sweet fragile lady. I’ve stopped to talk to her a handful of times. She is just gold, she tells me she had noticed me running everyday since about 9 and half years ago.

One morning she went in early to open shop for her grandson who had fell ill. Now she comes every morning to make sure I am safe and to offer me a donut. Mrs Lee is her name though she insists on me calling her Molly. Mrs Lee thinks I’m getting way to skinny and over doing myself that’s why she offers me donuts. I don’t tell her about these voices in my head. I usually just listen to her tell her stories. Molly has some wonderful, wild tales.

After my morning runs I come home and shower while I cry. It’s the only time I feel I can cry. I’m already wet and if anyone sees me it’s easy to say I got shampoo in my eyes. I cry for many reasons but nobody will ever know. I guess I can share them with you since nobody will ever read it.

Nonetheless, I mask my emotions with makeup, jewelry, and beautiful clothes. Makes you wonder what do I have to cry about. I got it all huh? After I am ready for the day it’s that daily struggle of what to make for breakfast. In my head I want everything to be perfect bc why not.

My husband works hard, he loves me. He gives me a life a luxury. The least I can do is make him a 5 star fucking breakfast! Why can’t I ever though? It doesn’t matter how many cook books I pick up or fucking Pinterest’s I look at. My breakfast is always mediocre. Why am I like this?

I have insisted thousands of times that we don’t need a maid. We don’t need any help. Some times I feel like giving in and just hire someone to clean the house for me but I know I won’t. I clean , get the dogs fed , take them out to the bathroom. I usually just let them stay in the back yard. We made it dog friendly.

Henry is gone all day for work and so am I . They have a doggy door so they can come in when ever they please. After the dogs I head to work. It’s a 25 minute drive from our house. I work in an office taking phone calls. I’m an assistant but I feel all I do is just take phone calls.

My boss really doesn’t have me doing anything else. He has an assistant for like everything. I know I could do something better but what skills do I have? I really haven’t thought of what I wanted to do with my life. I am always so busy and worried about everybody else. Who am I? Who is Holly Price?

At the moment as I write this am contemplating, what’s the point am I imbecilic? Is writing my feelings my deepest inner emotions, my life, worth the time and effort? What if someone finds it will they want to confine me? Who else can I confide in? My anxiety gets the best of me and intrusive thoughts smack me in the face. Like what if I tell anyone even if it’s just one person how I am feeling, they could use my words against me. Make me a villain, try and say I’m crazy.

I know I’ve said my husband is a great man , he is. It’s just he is old fashioned type of man who doesn’t believe in therapy. He feels since he gives me the world and he doesn’t step out on me then there is no reason I should ever be sad. I guess that’s why I fill my life up with so much to do, so I have no time to feel anything.

What people don’t understand is even us strong people who never appear to be sad. The ones with smiles always on their faces. Making everyone laugh, living life to the fullest. Us, the ones who never ask for help or talk about our lives or problems. Yes us believe it or not we are human and those are sometimes just masks we where so we don’t burden anyone.

We fight our fight ever single day. We’re exhausted, you’ll never know it though. I’m not suicidal but I don’t love living. I’m not afraid of death but I don’t want to die. I know one day I’ll be me again. I need to heal , I need to rediscover who I am. This is why I started this diary. So I can heal through my own words without having to share with anyone else. Connect with my inner child, connect with ME.

Tuesday 3-17-02:

Why do I have this guilty feeling like if I’m doing something wrong? I know people write in diaries all around the world for many years. So why do I feel like I shouldn’t be doing this? Is it a betrayal to my husband that he doesn’t know I’m doing this? I don’t want anyone to know bc I know I will never hear the end of it. Gotta keep telling myself I’m doing it for myself, my healing process.

I had this boyfriend when I was 18. He use to beat me everyday. He kept me from my family and friends. After his beatings I never wanted to see anyone I was embarrassed of how deformed he would make me. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. He always apologized later on those days.

Like it really make a difference. I was so scared of him I couldn’t leave. I would romanticize our memories together and try to remember why I loved him. The promises he’d make, boy was I naive. I finally found the strength to leave him 2 years in. Nobody ever found out what kind of man he was. I’m not the type of person to villain someone either.

I was hanging with some friends at a party one day. They all took off but one person. I never seen him before this night. Short story short, he rapped me. I couldn’t believe another man would dehumanize me, violate me. I was ashamed of myself, I blamed myself once again. Must been my fault, I was sitting minding my own damn business but I was nice to him. Like I am just nice to everyone, is being nice all it takes? Again, nobody knows, I felt nobody would care anyways. Toxicity follows me around like a plague.

I can’t say I went into a depression but I did drink a lot. Hey I worked, payed my bills, only had myself to look after. As long as I adult I can still drink my pain into oblivion. I can say I didn’t experiment with drugs. Well at least illegal drugs. I would sneak my parents pills when I’d go visit. Like I said I’m hardly domesticated.

I’m in denial now that I look back I was depressed. I hid it well I wished the combination of booze and pills would whisk me away. Take me to a place where I didn’t have to deal with people trying to hurt me every time I tried to be a good human. There I said it. I know other people had it worse that’s a huge reason I suck it up.

One day I was on my break and I read an article. It was saying something about purpose in life and what not. Later that week I ran into my husband and a grocery store. What a meet- cute , corny huh. He had looked lost so I offered my help. No matter how many times a person would hurt me I can’t give up being kind. It’s just who I am, nobody needs to suffer just because I have. Anyways we hit it off if you can’t tell.

I’m a blind lover, I don’t recognize red flags until it’s to late. So if my husband had any I never noticed. That’s something I need to work on next. I gave up drinking and pill popping immediately. I wanted to make a great impression. I thought I found the man of my dreams. Least I can do is clean up my act. I did just like that, every pain I ever endured in my lifetime I swept under the rug.

Now I can’t say our marriage is picture perfect. Nobody’s is , but I can say I do seem to defend his character quite a bit. Married 10 years. He doesn’t hit me, he isn’t the cheating type. I have never been talked down to as much as this man does to me. Maybe I deserved it.

He doesn’t yell but he tone of voice the words that come out of his mouth feel like a beating. Maybe I deserved it. That’s what I use to think. I been meditating lately instead of my morning runs. I got a message in my dream a few nights ago. I was hugging myself, telling myself I was safe and I didn’t deserve anything I’ve gone through. It’s okay for me to feel any emotion I need to.

Friday 1-11-03:

It’s been awhile since I wrote in you. Dear diary I want to thank you. You were the key to happiness. I know I only had two sessions with you. You made me start my healing journey and I became addicted. To be honest I kinda hid you to well and forgot where I put you. After awhile I forgot and stopped searching. I didn’t stop healing. I kept meditating, I did do much research on how to heal . I started with healing my inner child than every version of myself that was hurt.

I got a divorce, well it’s in the process but still. During a meditation session I went through my whole marriage. Realized how toxic it truly was. How it was siphoning off my energy. Made me some one I’m not and I didn’t want to be anymore. I know it was a huge step, but I know I will be fine.

I’ve been learning who I truly am again like a child. It’s exciting and I discovered I love carbs and hate running! In moderation of course but you won’t catch me killing myself running anymore. I can’t wait to see what else I enjoy. Until next time farewell dear friend.

P.s : I have a therapist now!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thank you for reading. Mental health is no joke. Though this story is fictional, I have struggled with my own share and don’t want anyone to think I don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. Like the person in the story I find writing my feelings a positive way to release. I’m not a professional therapist or a Dr. So I only give advice that has helped me.

•••••••••

If you or anyone you know is or becomes suicidal remember the number 988. Anyone , anywhere can call or text.

•••••••••

Spreading awareness is very dear to me , I lost my brother 4 years ago to suicide. 🖤