Dear Stupid Purple Notebook

April 2, 2021  9:49 am

Dear diary stupid purple notebook,

This is dumb. I hate this. I don’t want to put my feelings into words, but my therapist said drinking more was not a valid new year’s resolution and made me pick a new one, I chose journaling, but now she’s actually making me do it. The nerve. So, I guess now I have to write in you every day. I probably won’t. You’ll be lucky if you ever get opened again. That’s all for now stupid purple notebook.                                                                     - Dawn Mason

April 5, 2021 7:32 pm

Dear stupid purple notebook

I saw my therapist today. I told her I wasn’t using you and she got so disappointed in me, so I guess I’m back to doing this every single day. I didn’t do much today. My therapist said that every time I feel tempted to go get a drink or visit the bar, I should write in you instead, so here I am. I can’t think of anything else to say but I guess I need to talk about things other than not wanting to do this. It rained a little today. Maybe the plants outside my windowsill will start growing again. Right now they look shriveled and sad, a bit sickly, just like me. Maybe the rain is good for me too. (PS I’m not going to sign my name anymore, who else could’ve written this?)

April 7, 2021 7:51 am

Dear stupid purple notebook,

 I almost forgot to write in you today, but then I remembered Monica said that I should bring you tomorrow so she can make sure I’m letting my feelings out or whatever. I took a walk in the park today. I saw a few people with their dogs. I wish I had a dog. I’d already have one if my apartment complex didn’t have a rule against pets. I could get one anyway. I’ve never been a big fan of following the rules.

April 11, 2021, 5:31 pm

Dear stupid purple notebook,

16. That’s how many red flowers I saw when I went to town today. 16 red, 3 blue, 8 yellow, and even a few purples, 3, I think. You may wonder, stupid purple notebook, why I counted the flowers I saw. Well its like a game that I play, except its more of a distraction than anything else. I know that if I focused on all the alcohol I see in town, whether its an ad or a liquor store, well it won’t help me, let’s leave it at that. So instead I focus on something else, like the colors of flowers. I switch it up every season. In the spring I count the flowers. In the summer I find different license plates of tourists from who knows where. In the fall I focus all my attention on counting the last green leaves among their colored buddies. In the winter I watch the patterns on the jackets of pedestrians, tiger print on an older woman on her way home from work, little rubber ducks on a young girl holding her moms’ hand, little things like that.

April 13, 2021 4:03 pm

Dear stupid purple notebook,

I’m going to a party later. Not a big crashing party with dancing and music and drinks, just a little one. A small birthday party between a few close friends. Sometimes I feel bad because I think I’m holding them back. If I wasn’t going to be there, they could go out, dress up, maybe go to a bar or club or somewhere really fun. Instead well sit at her apartment and watch movies that make no sense, but we don’t care, they make us laugh at least. But then I remember what Monica told me. It’s not my fault, and it’ll probably be a blast anyway. We can make our own fun.

April 16, 2021 8:25 pm

Dear stupid purple notebook,

Today I got the most fantastic news. I don’t have to go to therapy anymore! Well, technically I do, but instead of going every three days ill go every three weeks. I don’t really know what I’m going to do with myself yet. Up until now my life didn’t really have a purpose. I left one therapy session and my only goal was to get myself through the next few days and into the next one. Now I’ll have weeks to fill with basically anything I want. Who knows, maybe I could pick up a new hobby, or rediscover a new one, I used to like writing, maybe I’ll try that. I guess now that my life is supposedly fixed, I don’t have to write in you anymore. I don’t want to put you away in some dusty cupboard where someday I’ll rediscover you and force myself to relive this part of my life through my own words. Maybe ill burn you or bury you or rip you to shreds, I don’t know yet. Ill figure it out someday.

May 9, 2022 7:14 am

Dear stupid purple notebook,

I guess I never did any of the things I said I was going to do with you. You got pushed under my bed, ready to be found the next time I deep cleaned my apartment, that just happened to be today. I guess I was kind of right in my last entry, being forced by my own curiosity to read all those little entries from that time in my life was hard, but I’m lucky to be able to do it. Many people overlook the importance of writing down your feelings. It helped me understand myself and my feelings then and helps me see the differences in my life now. I ended up picking up writing again, and I’m in the process of publishing my first book right now. I don’t go to therapy anymore, but I do stop in and check on Monica occasionally, and she in turn checks on me.  Maybe I’ll put you away and find this entry in a couple years, and write another one, a letter to no one, but for now I appreciate all you’ve done for me. That’s all for now. Check you later lovely purple notebook.