I’m not sure why I’m embarrassed…or reluctant…to admit that, as a 17-year-old, I was somewhat suicidal.

I’ve managed to have some sympathy for myself up until now. Now I’m just a wee bit…furious with my 17-year-old self…

1. Was I racist for assuming Susan wouldn’t want to date a black guy? I’m not sure; maybe I was just ignorant and naive. In 2007, I’d never think such a thing unless someone flat-out told me that they had a preference for or against a particular race in terms of someone they’d want to date. In 1993, perhaps interracial dating was still novel, at least for me, and now I barely register a thought upon seeing an interracial couple.

2. I really crashed quite quickly. I have had this recollection that my first two months of college was just completely awful. It seems more like I tolerated some awful feelings for about a month, but then I reached a breaking point.

3. I really, really, really, really, really wish I had never delivered that letter to Susan. I think she was basically fine with all the preceding ones. But I lacked the presence of mind to know that you don’t cram into a letter the tortured thought that I did in that letter to her. Sorry, Reader, for the plot spoiler. You didn’t really think things were going to work out with Susan, anyway, did you?

14 years later, I hate to think how one asshole whom I’m calling “Michael”, whom I roomed with for less than one month, had such an impact on the course of the rest of my life.

Playing “what if” is generally a waste of time, but I’ll indulge for just a minute. I had perhaps the very worst possible roommate I could’ve wound up with in Trent 2. Even with my sensitivities, I imagine I could have tolerated 80-90% of all the guys in the freshman class as a roommate.

If I had only had a tolerable roommate…well, first, let me say that I clearly allowed myself to be steamrolled by Michael. I never got him to make a single concession. I never really stood up for myself, although I honestly can’t imagine how the situation would’ve gotten any better, short of me becoming more of an asshole myself.

Anyway, so if I only had a tolerable roommate, I would have actually had a true freshman experience. What I mean is, I would’ve actually bonded with my dorm. I would’ve had a decent group of friends. I still would’ve joined my fraternity later on, but I’d have a significant alternative to that group, so I wouldn’t have needed to depend on it so mightily.

Simply put, I think I could’ve actually been happy at Duke. There’s a little spoiler for you if you couldn’t have guessed it–I wasn’t really ever happy at Duke. My own pathologies not withstanding, my first roommate experience really struck a huge blow to my chances of enjoying Duke.

1. It would be nice if I could post everyday in line with my 1993 posts, but that’s not realistic. I just posted three days’ worth of entries, and I’m caught up at the moment, but I may take a break of a few days here and there.

2. Whenever a time during the wee hours of the morning is indicated, it is almost always referring to that time on the date following the date specified on the entry. When I journaled back then, I’d have one file for each day, and since I’d typically actually write about the events of the day, post-midnight comments made prior to going to sleep would go with the previous day’s entry.

3. While I find some of what I’ve written fascinating, in that I’d long-forgotten many details of this time period until reading these long-buried entries, I’m refraining from commenting on the actual events. Posting these 14-year-old entries is somewhat antithetical to the idea of living in the present, so I’m trying not to dwell on the contents of these entries more than necessary.

4. I’m alternately creative and lazy when it comes to deriving pseudonyms for the characters written about in these entries. Occasionally, I’m not changing a name. Interestingly enough, I recently name-dropped someone from high school’s full name on my main blog, and that resulted in an old high school friend commenting in my blog, having found me based on a Google search of that person whose name I mentioned. However, in this blog, both of these individuals’ names would get pseudonyms.

I may wind up reiterating on a regular basis in here that I know full well when my reactions to events were irrational, immature, or just plain disturbing. My reprinting of these entries is not intended to validate thoughts from fourteen years ago. What exactly my motivation is will be something I ponder for awhile.

This is an experiment, just as starting a journal when I was 13 from an experiment, and moving it to my computer was an experiment, and starting a LiveJournal was an experiment, and Toastiest has been an experiment.

It is interesting to recall so vividly the details of these years, which have been glossed over in my mind. I think that one constant theme in here will be that I’m well aware of how irrational, immature, or disturbing my thoughts and behaviors are, but I’m still unable to mitigate these thoughts. One might wonder how much better I am, overall, today compared to that much younger self. I am better…to a degree. To find out just how much better I am today, you may have to wait until 2021, when perhaps I’ll be sharing 2007’s more private thoughts…