What Happens During a Brain Remodel?
I was writing a blog that turned into two blogs. I kept editing and editing. And the more I edited the more I hated all of it and wanted to throw it away. I hate my writing fairly regularly, sometimes my hatred is valid, sometimes it's not. This time I think it was valid and I'll tell you why, but first I want to tell you about being nine or seven or whatever. When I was seven I got a diary for Christmas. This diary was perfumed and pretty. It had a lock and a ribbon bookmark. I started writing in it right away. I wrote in that journal until I was ten. Several years ago I found that journal and started reading it. Some entries were funny, some were boring, some were heartfelt. It was nice hearing my little girl voice from those pages but after several entries, I noticed an angry undercurrent running through it. I couldn't finish the journal before reading became too unpleasant and I set it down. Because I was a kid and I didn't know any different, I didn't recogni