December 3
Laura M., age 15, North Carolina
December 3, 1997
Got lots of compliments on my out-fit — tight shirt of Renée’s. Dad picked me up from school. He had to break into the house. Went 2 work with Meri and Bryan. Mom came at 5:00. Packed 4 Dad’s. Dad had meeting. Ate dinner. Did homework all night. Sucked.
Marcy S., age 46, North Carolina
December 3, 1970
In the midst of a very deep depression a wonderful realization has come to me — I do love my husband. He is a kind, gentle, compassionate man and I want with all my heart to make him happy.
And even though his drinking worries me and makes me angry and insecure, that is not the real cause of my depressions.
Almost as far back as I can remember I’ve felt unworthy, unlovable, fearful and anxious. And burdened with guilt. In spite of all the insights and self-knowledge and therapy, this is still the image I have of myself. The realization that I’m more afraid of people’s acceptance and affection than I am of their rejection has really brought me face to face with what seems to be an insurmountable obstacle. (Probably the all-pervading feeling of unworthiness is behind both fears — and unworthiness isn’t really the right word. When people accept me I can’t just take their acceptance and give nothing in return — I have a responsibility to respond and to give acceptance to others. That’s what I’m afraid of maybe — the responsibility.
I’ve been “this way” for over 40 years and I have no faith that I’ll ever change. My greatest wish right now is that I had never been at all, that my life could somehow be completely erased without hurting anyone who cares for me. Of course this can’t be. I would also like to go to sleep and never wake up — not death and resurrection but just oblivion.
Talk about copping out — it’s a wonder I’m not an alcoholic or a drug addict.
I catch myself saying (praying) Lord, Lord, over and over. All of this sounds like the worst kind of self-pity and maybe that’s what it is, but I’m so tired of trying to change, of trying to think positive thoughts, of forcing myself to be outgoing. It all seems so meaningless — there is no joy in this struggle and no progress.
But I’m trapped. I can’t hurt my family by running away (can’t run away from myself anyway) or committing suicide (no courage for that) or even having a nervous breakdown — that’s something I won’t be able to control, though, and sometimes I feel on the verge of one.
Lord, help me, even though I have no faith that You will. It’s not that I think I’m so special that You can’t help me — everyone else but not me. I’m deeply afraid of Your love, even more than I am of my husband’s, and of other people’s acceptance. I guess this is at the very root of everything and I am powerless to rid myself of this fear.
Anna L., age 75, Illinois
December 3, 1960
Baked strawberry pie made jello and cooked meat. Helen and Jim happy to eat with us. Helen brot us 3 pr. hose for our birthdays. I cleaned all around as it was such a nice bright day.
Henry S., age 26, Michigan
December 3, 1887
I went up town to mail some letters this morning. Called at Mr. Waters and told them of the death of Munnis. Jessie Neill has been here all day helping Kate do her Saturday’s cooking. It began to rain shortly after noon and had kept it up ever since and is raining hard tonight, and Jessie will have to stay all night. I have been practicing flourishing for an hour tonight.
*(R. Henry Scadin Collection, D.H. Ramsey Library Special Collections, UNC Asheville)
Cornelia H., age 26, North Carolina
December 3, 1862
Raining this morning. Mrs. Jamison came to help me make a set of 700 harness. She did not come till 10 or after. I made a fruit sack this morning & put up 6 bu. of dried apples & 5 of peaches to send to Greenville by the waggon. I also weighed the tallow, 120 lbs., to send off & I intend sending a jar of lard, 10 sacks of flour & 25 bu. of green apples which makes out the load. We worked at the harness till about 4 & then Mrs. Jamison started home. Jinnie & Atheline mixing wool today. Quite cool this evening. I wrote a long letter to Mr. Henry tonight. We sent to the tan yard today for some leather, got a side of sole leather, very wet & one of upper leather but little better. Old Smith is a mean old yankee. Jim went after the wheel, did not get it but will get it Saturday.
*(Fear in North Carolina: The Civil War Journals and Letters of the Henry Family, Eds. Karen L. Clinard and Richard Russell, used with permission.)
Samuel P., age 34, London
December 3, 1667
Up, by candlelight, the only time I think I have done so this winter, and a coach being got over night, I to Sir W. Coventry’s, the first time I have seen him at his new house since he come to lodge there. He tells me of the vote for none of the House to be of the Commission for the Bill of Accounts; which he thinks is so great a disappointment to Birch and others that expected to be of it, that he thinks, could it have been [fore]seen, there would not have been any Bill at all. We hope it will be the better for all that are to account; it being likely that the men, being few, and not of the House, will hear reason. The main business I went about was about Gilsthrop, Sir W. Batten’s clerk; who, being upon his death-bed, and now dead, hath offered to make discoveries of the disorders of the Navy and of 65,000l. damage to the King: which made mighty noise in the Commons’ House; and members appointed to go to him, which they did; but nothing to the purpose got from him, but complaints of false musters, and ships being refitted with victuals and stores at Plymouth, after they come fitted from other ports; but all this to no purpose, nor more than we know, and will owne. But the best is, that this loggerhead should say this, that understands nothing of the Navy, nor ever would; and hath particularly blemished his master by name among us. I told Sir W. Coventry of my letter to Sir R. Brookes, and his answer to me. He advises me, in what I write to him, to be as short as I can, and obscure, saving in things fully plain; for all that he do is to make mischief; and that the greatest wisdom in dealing with the Parliament in the world is to say little, and let them get out what they can by force: which I shall observe. He declared to me much of his mind to be ruled by his own measures, and not to go so far as many would have him to the ruin of my Lord Chancellor, and for which they do endeavour to do what they can against [Sir] W. Coventry. “But,” says he, “I have done my do in helping to get him out of the administration of things, for which he is not fit; but for his life or estate I will have nothing to say to it: besides that, my duty to my master the Duke of York is such, that I will perish before I will do any thing to displease or disoblige him, where the very necessity of the kingdom do not in my judgment call me.”
*(The Diary of Samuel Pepys M.A. F.R.S., edited by Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A., London, George Bell & Sons York St. Covent Garden, Cambridge Deighton Bell & Co., 1893.)