A Horrifying Look Back at My Early Teen Years

I’ll admit: Crafting ‘10 Ridiculous Lines from Cover Letters I’ve Written’ was a wakeup call for me. After diving into the vault of desperation that was my 2008 outbox, I thought my esteem for the younger me couldn’t get any lower. But that all changed after a visit with my parents last weekend.

Due to an impending move down south, my parents have been cleaning up shop for the past six months. As a result, I’m greeted with relics from my past every time I visit them. Clothing, books, photos; they’re resurfacing like decomposing bodies. My parents want to be rid of extraneous memorabilia, and it’s my gift and burden to become reacquainted with the things that’ve been lost to basements and garages over the years. This time, they’d cleaned off my bookshelves and I returned to Brooklyn with a bag full of yearbooks, calendars, and best of all – journals.

I was nervous about rereading these things. Part of my anxiety arose from the knowledge that my entire family had passed my journals around like they were fuckin’ Mad Libs. Everyone had read everything. This concerned me, because I don’t have many specific memories from that time period. I know I had some bouts with untreated depression and I was addicted to boys like someone had liquefied them and shot them into my veins, but over time, my childhood has become like a film I know well but haven’t watched in years. Well, I dusted off that VHS tape. I hit rewind. I pressed play. AND IT WAS LIKE WATCHING THE RING.

1999 (Age: Too Young) – Disturbing rap lyrics I wrote

I’m the undercover lover/I’ll treat you like no other/I bump so hard the cum is dripping from your brother [!]

July 25, 2000 (Age 13) – In which I say goodbye to god, forever

Tomorrow, if things finally go my way, I’m going to see [redacted]! Finally, finally, I can’t believe it I’m so happy it’s unbelievable. Knowing my luck something will go wrong!

I called John’s before & [redacted] supposedly picked up… the person said it was [redacted] but it didn’t sound like him. Then he put me on hold for an hour… that part was definitely him. Amanda was probably on the other line. It’s 12 AM now… if I’m still up & kicking I’ll call at 12:30.

God please let things go right tomorrow I haven’t seen him in five months please let him go to Rio [teen club] please please please! [sad face]. That’s all I ask… I always ask you to help me but you never do… I don’t know why. Not even for serious stuff like Bud & the girl that might be pregnant… he’s only 15 you can’t do that to him! I love him so much he’s still a kid… God please… protect him he’s so young & he made a mistake… and if he kills himself because you let this girl be pregnant I’ll never talk to you again.


PS It’s 12:30 I’m on the phone with [redacted] & big surprise they ain’t goin to Rio. Thanx a lot, God. THANKS! Bye forever! [sad face]

Fall 2000 (Age 14) – In which I write a highly suspect ‘Good Outcome’/ ‘Bad Outcome’ list evaluating a leadership retreat I went to

Good Outcome:

  • Got to see old friends and make new ones
  • Realized who was a true friend all along
  • New guys! Sweet [smiley face] Too old [sad face]
  • Realized I have to put friends before myself sometimes, especially when they do it for me

Bad Outcome:

  • Serious back and arm injuries from heavy bags
  • Realized who wasn’t a true friend all along
  • Painful memories in every song, moment, and activity from one old guy
  • Loneliness
  • Everyone having someone except for me!
  • Dumb hikes
  • Lost beautiful ring
  • Not enough pity [OMG]
  • Dealing with over-enthusiasm [OMG]

July 15th, 2001 (Age 14) – In which I am ‘depressed’ in a way I don’t remember being

SHIT [written in bubble letters]

I just need to let it all out but I don’t know how. Why am I so depressed? It’s not that bad! Shit! I know for a fact that I need medicine. This depression shit is all in my mind and I CAN’T GET IT OUT!! Without drugs.

I don’t know what has become of me, in every depressing image, I see myself. It’s like looking in a mirror. And like a mirror, I can’t change what I see. I can just OBSERVE.

My room is so happy but I am so sad! I don’t get me. I don’t get anyone. I don’t get why I am so antisocial?? I never want to see my friends anymore?? For a while I thought that I needed love but for some reason when I get the feeling I’m in love it just makes me more depressed! Well I’m going to think.


Something beautiful was waiting on the other side

But I didn’t make it there

Some days I wish I were someone else, someone unaware

Something so beautiful exists but I can’t find him

And if I could I’d do everything I could just to remind him

I want to know that my stranger’s okay

Without him I’m very lonely

And although I never met him

I wish that he would hold me

I wonder where he is and if he’s even real

But could something imaginary have the power to make me feel

Like I can never rest again until I find my beautiful friend

What I would give to see the face of someone I know but don’t know at all

Your depression was beautiful; it made me fall

You were always dead but I would never hesitate to love your dead soul

Touch your dead hair

Kiss your dead lips


An acronym I made of my name, date unknown

S – Stupid

T- Tortured

E – Endangered? We wish

PH- Phuck up [LOL]

A – Asshole

N – Nothing

I – Idiot

E – Empty

Revisiting what will be referred to henceforth as “the dark years” was bittersweet. It’s disturbing to witness all of that angst from a safe distance – it felt like watching a burning building on the evening news. I feel overwhelmed and helpless. That crazy ass pathetic sociopath was ME. Conversely, it humbles me that despite being completely maladjusted for a few years, everything turned out okay. Besides, it’s the law that every teenager operates on the ‘hot mess’ setting. …Right? TC mark


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  • GuestyGuest

    I love your disturbing rap lyrics! :) lol. 

  • blerppp

    This made my day. I found my old journals from Middle School last Christmas and I was crying out of embarrassment talking about boys boys boys and writing emo-ass poems. Dear hormones, do they take over.

  • http://www.facebook.com/seikel Steve Seikel

    Yeah that rap was nice.  

    I just did drugs, drank, and ran a lot at that age.  Oh and tried to get my rocks off any way possible. (hello weird support pillow my grandma used.. well doesn’t that feel nice against the bishop)

  • starseed

    If it ‘s comforting at all, know that my teenage journals read exactly like yours!!

    • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

      Oh it sure is. :)

  • Guesty

    HAhah, this made me revisit my fcked up teen journals. Good shit.

  • kaylee

    rap lyrics lolololol

  • Kat

    I found my journal from 7th grade recently. My playlist was System of a Down, Disturbed, and the Original Cast Recording of Les Miserables….hahaha! I enjoyed your article. 

  • whatgives

    Wow, this is crap. If you are going to post someone’s teen diary, at least try to include more personal insight and reflection on the posts. This basically reads ‘omg, look how stupid’ without any real insight to how to the author has changed/developed.

    • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

      Sorry, I should’ve reiterated that I’m still a crazy ass pathetic sociopath… I guess you haven’t read the rest of my pieces.

    • Jordan

      I understand what you mean, but I liked this.  I could see where you only see indifferent, but I think for a lot of people it has an instrinsic personal tinge because we can remember the weird shit we wrote when we were younger and thought things were as bad as they were gonna get.  To me, this read not with a flippant tone, but with a humorous, reflective one.  Trust me, some other TC authors would have done this FAR less justice than Stephanie did.

      I took out of this the same thing she summarized, that this was a very real and valid picture of that time in your (young) life, but you can look back at the young you and say that things are gonna be ok.

    • jo

      the point wasn’t to show change and development, just to show how horrifying it was. personally none of my journal entries up until the age of 17 were that insightful.  i enjoyed this.

  • KP

    This seriously made my day. Amazing.

  • Katgeorge

    Girlfriend you should read some of the shit I used to write. Next time I’m in Melbourne I’m going to photocopy some for you and bring it back. We can make each other feel less bad for being completely retarded teenagers. xx

  • ADV

    If TC ever has another reading series will you PLEASE read one of your “dark years” poems aloud? This was hilarious.

    • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

      Yes, I have one about how we’re all like autumn leaves, and another about the night I lost my virginity (to be read to the tune of ‘Sic Gloria Transit’ by Brand New).

  • Clowve

    Omg, so I’m not alone. Reading this gave me strange comfort. :)

    • GUEST

      Me too.

  • A Steppin Razor for Stephanie

    I’ve been wanting to give you a hug since “So You’ve Been Dumped”.  Now reading this, I fret that a hug will not be enough to untie you from all your heavy memories.

    Instead, I have decided to follow you on Twitter.  In the hopes that as you gain digital popularity, you make a deal with your self to let go a memory that invites negativity. 

    Now, the question you need to answer is: how many followers are enough to release a bad memory?  I think it is fair to say, for every 50 followers you release a bad memory.  Thoughts?

    (PS – The acronym of your name was the last straw for me – it gets better Steph, it get better.)

    • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

      LOL. I love you. Your Twitter follow is all I need to get by.

      • A Steppin Razor for Staphanie

        All, Steph was at 380 followers when I last checked – lets get her to 430 by Friday.  At that point in time, Stephanie, you must make a decision to write an article exercising one bad memory from your valt.  

        Everyone, we can do this.  Together, b/c TC readers are selfless, proactive – thoughtful.  

        (Help is on the way Stephanie).

      • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

        You’re seriously cracking me up/making my day. But yes, I will exercise one bad memory should you succeed.


        And you have officially surpassed 430.  Yippee!!  We are waiting…

      • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

        You’re seriously cracking me up/making my day. But yes, I will exercise one bad memory should you succeed.

    • meredith

      Also offering support with a twitter follow! Girl, that was too funny, I’ve “been there,” thanks for having the guts to share. Now I know I might have been a weird pre-teen (“tween” didn’t exist in the 90’s!), but I wasn’t alone in it! 

  • martin

    wtf steph??? cum dripping brother!!! and to think you were the one who didnt get pregnant. hahahah.

    • http://stephgeorge.tumblr.com Stephanie Georgopulos

      HAHAHA. Real talk.

  • martin

    wtf steph??? cum dripping brother!!! and to think you were the one who didnt get pregnant. hahahah.

  • me too

    love love love this…read my middle school journals and the “i need medication maybe i just need a boy to love me” garbage is right on…plus i referred to all my menz using code, i.e., SA star athlethe, ABS annoying but cute…some winning shit right there

  • me too

    love love love this…read my middle school journals and the “i need medication maybe i just need a boy to love me” garbage is right on…plus i referred to all my menz using code, i.e., SA star athlethe, ABS annoying but cute…some winning shit right there

  • Holly Went Lightly

    This if fucking hilarious. It’s only fault is that it isn’t longer.

  • Rose

    My early teen years were similar to yours. Boy obsessed and all documented in a diary. I’m tempted to throw them out but they’re really funny. :))

  • http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=825630453 Lauren Doster Magruder

    We’re currently moving and I packed up things from my mom’s basement to take along. I found my diary ( With duct tape wrapped around it and “Don’t read, even if I’m dead” written on it). I was extremely embarrassed and even more mad at my young self for being so gullible. Lots of rap lyrics and quotes I couldn’t have really comprehended. I think the part of your piece that spoke to me the most was… “God awful emo ass poem I wrote about my online crush who disappeared in 2000 and was probably a 45 year old man”  
    I have full documentation of me going from being super into church, to being really into HIM and drawing heartagrams on everything. I just hope my husband doesn’t find my drawings of “my future husband”, from back in 1999. He’d be upset that he doesn’t look like Mark McGrath.

  • http://twitter.com/hellllnawww annisah

    loves the disturbing rap lyrics.. written at 12. haha! hillarious article

  • http://www.negativesmart.com/ Candice

    Oh god oh god oh god. This is why I’m afraid to die. Even though I’m an atheist and I won’t be in any position to care, the thought of anyone reading my journals, which go pretty much almost all the way back to when I learned how to write, makes me shit my pants. Even I can’t read them. Just opening one of them up to a page with writing, thinking about reading a page, maybe even *actually* reading a few lines… I need a klonopin after. Or a dozen. And yet, there’s also no way in hell I’d ever get rid of them. 

    A lot of that might be illegible to people who aren’t me, though. So then I think about all the stuff I have online. 15 years of it, at least. That’s the really bad stuff. I guess most of it would be hard or nearly impossible for anyone to find but… Shit. Only nearly! And then… all the stuff I’ve written down in notebooks while drunk. Or worse, posted publicly and don’t even remember (or vaguely remembered the next day, but was too afraid to look at). I’m going to flip out if I keep thinking about this. Pure, concentrated liquid embarrassment. That I could never delete. It’s information, and I hoard information. There’s no TV show for me yet, because information doesn’t take up much room and so it isn’t as obvious of a problem. But damn. I’m unhealthy.

    I don’t ever read anything I’ve written. I hope no one else does. I hope that no one is reading *this*. Benzo time.

  • idk

    i love reading my old diaries for the laugh/embarrassment factor & also because it puts things into perspective for me… there are so many drawn-out, tear-stained pages about people and events that are totally insignificant to me now. reminds me that whatever i’m torturing myself over today probably won’t matter in a year .. things always get better .. so i should just chill and laugh at my problems now instead of waiting to look back on them and laugh — or at least try :)

  • Anonymous


  • kaylee

    If it makes you feel better at all, I used to press my blood (if I, you know, happened to have a cut) into my diary so the police could test it if I ever went missing. I’m not really sure how that would ever work. 

    man shit got weird.

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