She kinda breaks my heart with this:
Wednesday July 18th, 1934
I borrowed a suitcase from Mrs. Gurka cause ours is old-fashioned. Hers is a brown one and quite large. I know I’ll be lonesome up there but I can’t turn back. This whole day through I was as if someone drugged me. It seemed to me that I was just a puppet who could not get along. I was near Caveman but I didn’t speak but a few words. I took care of Ruthie for over an hour and Mrs. Gurka gave me a dime. I hated to take it but had to.
Saturday, July 21st, 1934
I didn’t have a chance to tell Caveman good-bye today. Gee but I’ll miss him. We got here somewhere around seven. The camp is larger than the one they had last year. I’m so awfully sorry I came. I’d love to go back home tomorrow. You know how it is. Lately I can’t feel at ease anywhere. And here I feel terrible. I’d love to have the people like me but I don’t know how to go about it. I hope that I’ll succeed because it would be terrible to have them be sorry I came.
I can’t tell you how many times I felt the exact same way at some new social experience.
This is just more proof of how when she gave herself more physical room in her journals, she really opened up.