The Black Books That Saved My Life

Have you ever found an old notebook from your past? You know like a diary but not because you used it for everything. I had such a notebook, actually I had several notebooks because that is how much I used to write during my early 20s. The consistent writing however waned after having kids. I still do not write as much anymore, and I am actually disappointed about that because writing saved my life. Not figuratively saved my life, writing literally saved my life. Recently during a depressive episode, I was wondering what I was going to do with the rest of my life and trying desperately to figure out what had went wrong. Did anything go wrong? Was this just a part of the normal course of the human condition? When we near the age of 50 do we all just ponder what we could have done differently, or do we reconcile our lives and settle for where we are?

In 2019 I left a customer service job before my lunch break. I just looked around turned off my laptop, packed belongings and left. Dramatic, yes, but unbeknownst to me I was in the mist of experiencing a nervous breakdown. The action of just leaving was indicative of how I had been feeling for years. Overwhelmed, scared, tired, stressed, and just over whatever situation was occurring at the time, I subconsciously knew this was a pattern of behavior I never bothered to analyze. By March of 2020 I became extremely sick with what we now know was the coronavirus. I laid in bed barely able to breathe, burning with fever for weeks, just praying to make it through. By late April I was able to take a few steps just to sit in a chair. During this time I don’t remember having thoughts of what my next steps would be, but I do remember wanting to throw out old papers and stuff; this is when I found my old notebook.

I actually thought I lost it years ago during a move to a new home but there it was buried among old tax filings. The cover was soft, dusty, a dull blackish color, not really leather but moleskin like, the paper was a darkened oatmeal color, and you could tell that I really used this thing. I turned the notebook over to the backside and began to read starting from the last entry to the first. Some old grocery coupons fell out and a chocolate chip cookie recipe I never got around to cooking. I noted the date realizing I was 32 at the time of the last entry and near the end of my master’s degree. Engrossed in what was written I remembered the day, what I was wearing, how much I weighed, where I was living, the car I was driving, the guy I was seeing. Notebooks have a way of doing that, triggering experiences that are now memories. I flipped through more pages that revealed test dates, doctor appointments, moving dates, phone numbers, business cards attached by paperclips, outline class assignments and sexual encounters with him. I was amused and curious as if I were sneaking a peak into someone’s else life. By the time I got to the middle I see it, my business plan, suddenly I am confused. What is this I wondered, scrolling the pages, and seeing the details of opening a cookie shop. A cookie shop…to which now the cookie recipe makes more sense, did I really want to open a cookie shop? I paused trying to remember what may have inspired me to consider and actually draft out a plan for opening a cookie shop. I returned to reading the rest of the notebook to the beginning and as I closed the book I realized how much of earlier self I had forgot.

Months of being in lockdown passed and money was getting tight. I was not able to find work and a deep sense of worry creeped over me. However the lockdown was a blessing in disguise because I eventually did a deep dive into myself. Luckily for me my master’s in psychology became a self-serve mechanism for evaluation. I purchased another notebook, yes one that looked exactly like the one I found just newer, and I began to write again. This time the writing was for recalling and analyzing thoughts, noting past actions and behavior, and developing plans of action to counter certain negative behaviors. It takes months but it was worth it because I felt better than ever. I stopped the self-hated, I learned to develop a better relationship with me, and I became grateful for where I found myself mentally. I didn’t solve world peace, but I did make peace with myself. Then I remembered this is why I had always written in notebooks. I can’t remember if it was suggested to me, but I did recall as a child that I always kept a notebook. I remember writing daily and often throughout the day so much that I had to note times. Through my teens I kept track of daily life and experiences that I cringed at. It was an annual ritual to replace the old notebook and eventually there was the blending of datebook calendars and notebooks. Unfortunately, life happened to me and the writing subsided until it became non-existent.

By the end of 2020 I felt like mostly everyone, exhausted and overwhelmed; but in reviewing my old notebook I realized that I had been suffering from mental health issues for years. I found other notebooks and after reading page after page a person in serious trouble came into fruition. I recognized the symptoms of serve depression, boarding on manic depression. My hypothesis was validated by a counselor I sought after a discussion with my physician. Despite going to school for psychology, to which I choose not to practice, I was shocked to realize I had been suffering from mental health issues since my preteens. My notebooks were key to my self diagnoses as I kept entries that recounted manic depressive episodes, dark thoughts, mood swings, and mental abuse. My past writings helped save my life but not just in regard to my mental health but surprisingly my finances.

The cookie shop business plan I found was the catalyst for the decision to start my own business. The business plan was concise and clear but not complete, so I started the process to revise it. I wrote a new business plan but modify the business into a consulting firm. I spent days researching, writing, clipping pictures, storing printed out ideas and inspiration images, drafting outlines and presentations all in my new notebook. Eventually what was put on paper made its way onto an application form for ‘Doing Business As’ – at the office for business license applications I shared my story about finding the old notebook containing the older business idea. Intrigued and amused the clerk inquired as to the former business name. “The Cookie Monster” I recalled to which the clerk told me that they remembered a cookie bakery application from years ago with that name. The clerk researched the name and apparently I had applied for a DBA under that very name. I had forgotten all about applying for a business license. The clerk and I laughed because the license was still valid. Then a deep voice from behind says “excuse me but did you say that your business is named The Cookie Monster” “well according to the clerk, yes it is” “oh no”. An older man with papers in his hand bowed his head looking completely gutted. Then he shot his head up and asked to speak with me; he explained that he and wife had plans to open a bakery that specializes in cookies and spent weeks coming up with the name The Cookie Monster. He offered to buy the name from me but before I could say anything he handed me a business card and said to call his attorney to work out a deal. As the man walked away the clerks said to me “ I would sell it if I were you”.

I am one of those people that thinks everything happens for a reason. If I hadn’t left that job, I probably wouldn’t have gotten sick. If I hadn’t gotten sick I wouldn’t have the time to find my notebook. Had I not found my notebook I wouldn’t have seen the business plan or been inspired to look through my other notebooks to aide in my self-analysis. The self-analysis led me to seek professional help which aided me in healing mentally. Healing mentally enabled me to plan to start my own business which had led me to this moment. I called the attorney who made me the offer of $20,000.00 for the use and ownership of the business name. Stunned and elated I agreed because I needed the money, and they needed the name.

The notebooks were not simply bound paper between covers of moleskin, the notebooks were real time recorded documents that saved my life. Who knows what would have transpired had I not found them, because I truly felt lost? I had no job, mentally was not doing good, and overwhelmed in my personal life. Looking back at my past through the aid of a tangible item was invaluable. Laptops and cellphones are not the same as notebooks; there is something about writing and reading the written word. My experiences became encapsulated memories to which I could see growth and healing in my present. For me having a notebook not only served as a coping mechanism but a financial resource to live the life I always wanted.