When I was about eight years old, my dad took me to a bookstore – I think it was called New Horizons – and I picked out my first journal.

It was a small scarlet wire-bound hardcover notebook with crisp lined white pages.

It was one of my happiest childhood moments; I’d always wanted my very own diary.

That night I wrote in my best and clearest cursive handwriting, about the trip to the bookstore and my new diary.

I’ve kept a dairy/journal of some sort since then.

Keeping a journal for me has always been therapeutic, it helped me through childhood and adolescence.

I’d like to think that it sustains me in adulthood.

Every child with a miserable life fantasizes that she/he is adopted; I took my penchant for drama to another level when I started writing letters to my ‘real mom’.

I’d write elaborate theatrical letters to her about how much my life sucked and how I was looking forward to be reunited with her.

One time when I was about ten and my mom (the one I was convinced wasn’t/couldn’t be my mother) wouldn’t let me go to Deborah Haffner’s birthday party, I wrote a long letter entry to my ‘real mom’ about how everyone was mean and wouldn’t let me do anything I wanted.

My mom (who used to read my diary back then) got very angry and screamed at me “You think I am mean? Wait till Alice is your new mother” – my dad was deep into his affair then. I don’t know why I still remember that incident, I guess because it turned out to be true.

I recently found my journal from 1997 and it’s full of angst and self discovery.

I was a little obsessed with breaking away from expectations.

Most of my entries were about getting away and beginning the rest of my life.

My journal from 1999 is fraught with self orchestrated turmoil.

I seemed restless and to be gradually letting go of my wild imagination, also I was getting boring and long-winded.

I got my first online diary in 2001; blogs weren’t big back then.

I still keep a journal, a red one and although I don’t write about the mundane tidbits of my daily life, I still write… about ideas and the strange thoughts that pop into my head.

I use my journal these days for blog post notes, and general whatnots.