October 2, 1996

I went to a Catholic high school and though there was some expected traditional guilting, it was a Jesuit school and therefore a little more liberal, hip, and mystical. Mr. Wiseman, my spirituality teacher, was a hilarious hippie, deeply into self-introspection and talk therapy. I am usually all for that, too, but I got annoyed with it in the throes of teen angst. Hell, I'm 36 and I still get annoyed with that shit sometimes. 

I think I did experience depression as a teen but I also think adolescence and depression can be synonymous. Sometimes I look back at my friends and I drinking in high school and I mourn for our still-developing brains and bodies. I wonder why we weren't hiking or doing more constructive activities (though we did those things, too). At other times, I feel like our behavior was utterly typical and I thank God we weren't into more serious substances or stealing or eating disorders or cutting or lighting small animals on fire for yuks:

Wednesday, October 2, 1996

Dear Diary,

I’m irritated. My spirituality class is discussing the complications of being young and having too much to do and not being able to do what we want to do because school and preparation for college take up all of our time. We discuss our frustrations and there’s no inspiration in it. Mom thinks I’m depressed. It’s not that. It’s that these are turbulent times and I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed my high school years, but there is work and strife and stress and sadness intermingled with the goodness and joy. I’m growing up and taking responsibility. I don’t go out on weekends. I work, do homework, and sleep but I don’t mind because I know I’d go out and get drunk if I didn’t stay home. But I’m taking Sunday off and going to Cedar on Saturday.

Things in my past affected and hurt me and I need to deal with them. Like moving when I was 14. I talked to Oliver a couple nights ago. I’ll see him when I visit John in LA in November. Emma and I are going to Western in a couple weeks. I talked to Brian for a long time last night.

I have guitar lessons tonight. I hope I go far with that and don’t throw it away. School and the people there fuck with my head. I hate how they shape my mind and feelings.

I love the fall. It’s a sad, quiet, reflective time. I hope I get into Western. I miss Aidan.

Love, Meghan

Minor: Volume One The Journals of Meghan McDonnell

Novice: Volume Two The Journals of Meghan McDonnell

Limbo: Volume Three The Journals of Meghan McDonnell