The idea of the pensieve in Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling has always had a lot of allure to me. For those of you unfamiliar with the Harry Potter series, a pensieve is a basin in which a wizard can store thoughts so as to keep his mind uncluttered. A wand is used to pull the wisp of a memory out of their head, and the memory is put in the basin for safekeeping. The memories can be recalled, and so are not ever truly forgotten.

Putting pen to paper has always been very cathartic for me: a way to find humor in the bleak and get haunting thoughts out of my head; a way to preserve snapshots of my soul, and to keep memories and feelings I don’t want to let go of. All the good and the bad of my life can be found between the pages of journals. Journals were always my pensieve, even before I ever heard the term. As I navigate “adulting”, I feel compelled to share my story.  I want to share the raw truth of my pain, the joy I am learning to find, the funny things that happen along the way, and the positive thinking that helps me to break through the clouds of fear and depression to feel sun on my face. Life can be shitty. But it can also be pretty great. Usually it’s both all at once.