We’re moving soon, and I’ve started to sort through some things destined for either the garage sale or the trash.

I’ve always kept journals. I’ve thrown most of them away, unfortunately–I wish I still had my journals from high school, and my twenties. But I don’t, for varying reasons: some of them made me deeply uncomfortable, and some of them became a weapon used against me in the second-worst relationship I ever had. So I mostly stopped writing on paper, once the cloud became available.

But every now and then I decide there’s something valuable about writing long-hand, and I give it another guarded try. In sorting through stuff this weekend, I found one of those attempts.

You guys know what my life is like now. John, brilliant kids, buying a house, a handful of publications, lots of friends, conventions, financial security on at least a for-now level. Here’s what it was like in 2003. This was written in the comfort of a double-wide trailer in Santa Barbara, CA:

January 28, 2003

D– and I have been out of work for six and a half months, and our savings is going to run out in two (end of March). I am very afraid of how things could go.

We’re taking steps. D– continues to look daily for jobs; I’ve started growing vegetables, making laundry detergent, and generally tightening the belt; our landlady gave us a temporary rent reduction for February and March; I registered with WIC and will be taking my resume to a temp agency on Thursday. We’ve taken a lot of good actions. But I’m still afraid.

There’s a positive undercurrent in all of this, though. Our lifestyle changes have been positive–without television, Danielle plays outside, which she never used to do. We’ve simplified so much. And we have both been home to watch Grace during her first six months.

This has been a big week for the girls. Danielle finally broke up with G–, the boy she’s been “with” since last year. He had taken to calling her “fat” and “tub of lard” and fortunately she thinks too much of herself to tolerate that.

Grace started scooting this week, and has said “night night” twice. I’m going to count that as her first official word, spoken January 27, 2003.

Hand is cramping. More later.

There are only three entries in this one, and the next two are full of pain, but I’m so glad I have this. I didn’t even remember what Grace’s first word was. And Danni has grown up to be a strong woman who will never tolerate that shit (she was in fourth third grade at the time)–I’m so glad I have this memory of when that young woman first emerged.

No more throwing these sorts of things away. I’m safe now.