Dear Diary

I don't know when as an adult I started diary/journal writing before bed, but I have been writing in a Moleskine diary for a long while now.  

Last time I was at Burning Man I wrapped all of my old ones up and put them in the temple to burn and release.  It was my intention to do this whenever I returned back to Black Rock City, but I haven't been back since 2016 and I don't know when I will ever (if ever?) go back and so I have a pile of ten Moleskine diaries that I don't have a giant spiritual fire to burn and release in.....

I thought about gluing the pages together and wrapping them up and sending them with someone to put into the temple on my behalf but that didn't feel safe (I don't want people reading them.)

Lately I've had an almost obsession with my stuff.  In that... what will happen to my stuff when I die?

It's panicking me.  This isn't healthy I'm sure.  But I think turning 50 (51 now) shifted my mind to "I will die in the next portion of my life" even though we all never know when we are going to die, it does seem more likely the older you get, right?

So since my birthday this year I've been uncomfortably worried about "where will my stuff go?"  Like I have some good stuff.  I don't want it to get thrown in a bin.  And so I have a sort of half plan to find someone to talk to about this (while making a will?) to like say "how do I make sure my stuff goes to people who will enjoy it when I don't have kids to leave stuff to?"

And it's a weird thing to think I mean honestly I could die tomorrow in which case Jason should get my records and stereo stuff and cameras because he'd appreciate them but if I die in another 50 years he'll likely not be there so who do I leave them to, like how does this work?  Do you update your will ever 5 years or something?  WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO HERE!??!??!!??

And because it's clearly a stressor for me but one that stresses me almost too much to take on, I started to focus on "well I don't want anyone reading my diaries/journals, what can I do about that?"

Jason occasionally has a small fire in a thingy in his backyard (safely) and I once took some papers there to burn/release and they made a terrible smoky ashy mess and he was like "didn't you know you can't burn papers that way?" so I can't like make a bonfire and chuck them in (if I even had a safe place to make a bonfire in "burn season") so I had the idea that I could shred them in my shredder.

Maybe not as powerful of a spiritual release as flame is but also takes that one stress out of my mind of "I don't want people to read my diaries if I die soon". 

So that's something I started this weekend.  I was stunned to see I had ten journals waiting to be dealt with, even though I had the awareness I haven't burned anything in a Burning Man temple since 2016 (which would have been diaries up to 2015's)

It's a little time consuming.  My (older) paper shredder can only do so many pages before it needs a cool down break.  And of course I have to rip the pages out by hand as I can't just like shove the entire book down the small shredder space.  And the book covers and string and binder all have to go in the garbage and it's uncomfortable, for example, to read all my years of complaints about Jason (sigh) or read some really bad days and times, and part of me wants to go through them and read the surprisingly good days I have forgotten about (I made my parents Mothers Day breakfast one year?  I have NO recollection of that.) So I know that I am losing some good memories with this shredding but I am also letting go of some really hard memories and times and bad thoughts and upsetting things.

I am trying to think about "releasing" these memories and times and thanking myself for my growth but it's taking a long time and it's not a perfect solution and I'm sad for the memories I'm losing but this is "better" for me than thinking that someone may read my private thoughts once I'm gone.  

Should I just stop journalling?  Maybe.  But it's a habit.  And the last few years it's been a gratitude journal over everything else and that's supposed to be good for one's mental well being so for now it is what it is and I have seven more years to get rid of/let go of and well yeah, life is weird, you know? 

I wish I'd been kinder to myself..... some of the entries I glance at break my heart.  Especially all the entries of hurt and upset I got from/with/about Jason.  That sucks to read.  But there are good memories and moments in there too.  I have to remind myself about that.

Sigh.