I had assumed I wouldn't have been writing all that much during 2012, the year I got sick and exhausted. But I did actually, I think that might have been the year I wrote most frequently. And I think it's all there, hidden between the lines. I didn't see what was going on, I didn't yet know what was coming. But I knew I was suffering and I was working so hard to get by, to solve problems, to make things work. Now, in hind sight, I can almost feel the desperation and the self blame radiating off the computer when I read the entries.
I started to cry when I'd gotten to around March or something, and stopped reading. Honestly, I don't want to know. At least not right now, not yet. I'm sure I'll be glad to have it written down in the future. For now, it still hurts.