My uncle hung himself last week. What's interesting is that I had just finished reading 'The Virgin Suicides' the week before....which in no way advoates suicide. In fact, the end is pretty anti-.
But there's this line. "In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws." We accept the fact that things will not be perfect, in fact that they will grow worse and worse. We accept that our relatipnships will crumble, our marriages will be struggles, that at some point, we will feel as though the entire world is a gun pointed at us. This is life as we know it, and so we take it with its depression and its murders, we accept the dying love and the failing relationships, the friends who don't call and mothers who kill their babies, and we set our hearts on being dissappointed, because you can't expect perfection. We acknowledge that though we may give all of ourselves away in love, we may never get a whole person in return.
My uncle refused this reality. I may not agree, but I understand.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
unfriended
So, facebook is wonderful, and all. But sometimes, it hurts.
I have to try and not take it personally when people unfriend me. Because maybe they have a reason, or something...maybe we just don't talk, and they only want people they talk to. But every time it happens, it's like: BAM! Rejected.
Chad unfriended me. And honestly, I was like 'why?'. and then I was like, 'whatever'. Because I guess I can see why he'd be mad, or not want much to do with me. So I just moved on.
Today, I found out that his best friend David unfriended me. That hurt. I always liked David, he's always been so nice to me, and he made the more frustrating times really fun. I thought we were kind of friends, but aparently, I was only his friend by proxy, because I was Chad's girlfriend. I guess it could be a solidarity thing, too. Because I supposedly cheated, right? So David unfriends me to be a good friend, even though my friends are all still being nice to Chad, who's been a fucking ass to me.
.....I'm just so sick of this. I don't want to be the bad guy anymore. I know there is less attention being paid than I feel like, but at the same time, it seems like everyone I talk to has an opinion, and the fact that Chad is making it seem like I cheated really upsets me. I was a good girlfriend. I told him I wasn't happy, and he ignored me....what else was I supposed to do? Yes, I found a guy who appreciates me....can you fucking blame me? Because he's sad I'm supposed to never be happy again?
What the fuck ever.
I have to try and not take it personally when people unfriend me. Because maybe they have a reason, or something...maybe we just don't talk, and they only want people they talk to. But every time it happens, it's like: BAM! Rejected.
Chad unfriended me. And honestly, I was like 'why?'. and then I was like, 'whatever'. Because I guess I can see why he'd be mad, or not want much to do with me. So I just moved on.
Today, I found out that his best friend David unfriended me. That hurt. I always liked David, he's always been so nice to me, and he made the more frustrating times really fun. I thought we were kind of friends, but aparently, I was only his friend by proxy, because I was Chad's girlfriend. I guess it could be a solidarity thing, too. Because I supposedly cheated, right? So David unfriends me to be a good friend, even though my friends are all still being nice to Chad, who's been a fucking ass to me.
.....I'm just so sick of this. I don't want to be the bad guy anymore. I know there is less attention being paid than I feel like, but at the same time, it seems like everyone I talk to has an opinion, and the fact that Chad is making it seem like I cheated really upsets me. I was a good girlfriend. I told him I wasn't happy, and he ignored me....what else was I supposed to do? Yes, I found a guy who appreciates me....can you fucking blame me? Because he's sad I'm supposed to never be happy again?
What the fuck ever.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Anne Frank
When I first read Anne Frank's diary, I was 13, too. And I had an older, perfect sister. And I didn't understand my mother, and no one understood me, and I was soooo alone, just like Anne.
There is this one passage, where she asks her best friend if they can feel eachother's breasts. And her friend is all 'ew, no'. And poor Anne feels like a gross weirdo, because now her friend thinks she's a lesbian, and all she really wanted was to know her better.
I don't go around asking my friends to feel their breasts. And, if someone asked to feel mine, I'd be a little weirded out. But, I do the same thing...I want to know people, intimately. In fact, probably far more intimately than they care to be known. I want to know every inch of the people I care about, all of their thoughts, all of their ideas....to have the best sense possible of who they are. But they always think I'm so strange, when I ask the things that I ask, and it's discouraging to keep getting the same weird glances, the same backing away.
There is this one passage, where she asks her best friend if they can feel eachother's breasts. And her friend is all 'ew, no'. And poor Anne feels like a gross weirdo, because now her friend thinks she's a lesbian, and all she really wanted was to know her better.
I don't go around asking my friends to feel their breasts. And, if someone asked to feel mine, I'd be a little weirded out. But, I do the same thing...I want to know people, intimately. In fact, probably far more intimately than they care to be known. I want to know every inch of the people I care about, all of their thoughts, all of their ideas....to have the best sense possible of who they are. But they always think I'm so strange, when I ask the things that I ask, and it's discouraging to keep getting the same weird glances, the same backing away.
Friday, September 3, 2010
fair trade?
So.....tonight between shifts, I am trying to facebook chat with Pj, and it is going nowhere.
I remember earlier, in April, how I hated that he didn't even care that Ryan and I were getting close...that he was being replaced. I wanted someone, anyone, to care enough to step out there for me, to fight, to say 'hey, that's mine!'. How can a human being be of worth, when no one will claim her?
But he wasn't jealous or angry or upset...he just handed me over like a doll he was done with. And I gave up. And it seemed like I was trading Pj for Ryan.
And then the breakup happened, and perhaps I traded Chad for Ryan, too.
.....but now, I have Ryan, and Ryan's affection, and Ryan's desire. I have a boy who looks jealously at anyone who even thinks to think about me...a boy who wants all of me, my heart my mind my silly thoughts, my giggles and tears and my morning tickles. I lost a friend who didn't want me, a boyfriend who wouldn't try.....
...and I don't feel guilty. Because I am with someone who gives back all I pour out, someone who won't leave me feeling empty.
I remember earlier, in April, how I hated that he didn't even care that Ryan and I were getting close...that he was being replaced. I wanted someone, anyone, to care enough to step out there for me, to fight, to say 'hey, that's mine!'. How can a human being be of worth, when no one will claim her?
But he wasn't jealous or angry or upset...he just handed me over like a doll he was done with. And I gave up. And it seemed like I was trading Pj for Ryan.
And then the breakup happened, and perhaps I traded Chad for Ryan, too.
.....but now, I have Ryan, and Ryan's affection, and Ryan's desire. I have a boy who looks jealously at anyone who even thinks to think about me...a boy who wants all of me, my heart my mind my silly thoughts, my giggles and tears and my morning tickles. I lost a friend who didn't want me, a boyfriend who wouldn't try.....
...and I don't feel guilty. Because I am with someone who gives back all I pour out, someone who won't leave me feeling empty.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
time to say it....
He blows my mind.
I know the blissful sweeping feeling, I know to beware of infatuation and passion and all of those things that seem real, but don't last.
He has been my friend for a long time. I have adored him since I met him. He is everything a person should be, everything I have sought in another human being, and he sees in me such beauty....it's the rarest, most precious thing to feel this way, to be felt about in the same way. I adore this boy, and I am blissful. For the first time in my life, I am grasping at words to find the phrases...not to express my discontent, my anguish, but to rightly express how happy I am. There is nothing short of linking my brain to yours that could convey what I am feeling correctly.
This is something else altogether than anything I've ever known. I am so happy. I am so happy.
I know the blissful sweeping feeling, I know to beware of infatuation and passion and all of those things that seem real, but don't last.
He has been my friend for a long time. I have adored him since I met him. He is everything a person should be, everything I have sought in another human being, and he sees in me such beauty....it's the rarest, most precious thing to feel this way, to be felt about in the same way. I adore this boy, and I am blissful. For the first time in my life, I am grasping at words to find the phrases...not to express my discontent, my anguish, but to rightly express how happy I am. There is nothing short of linking my brain to yours that could convey what I am feeling correctly.
This is something else altogether than anything I've ever known. I am so happy. I am so happy.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
distant
They are saying the same things to me that they said to Lisa. I treat the house like a hotel, I'm never home, I don't spend enough family time. But I can't take off work constantly to go on their expeditions, and I can't keep coming home at 5 to a house where no one speaks, and I can't stand lingering in my sister's shadow, when every move I make is a reflection of something she did.
So yes. I am gone from 5 to 12 most nights, and I do a number of things in those 7 glorious hours. Some nights I am with friends, but others I am alone, and some nights I giggle and some nights I cry. But wherever I am there is noise and movement, signs of the living, which is more than I can say for this airtight, silent existence.
So yes. I am gone from 5 to 12 most nights, and I do a number of things in those 7 glorious hours. Some nights I am with friends, but others I am alone, and some nights I giggle and some nights I cry. But wherever I am there is noise and movement, signs of the living, which is more than I can say for this airtight, silent existence.
Friday, June 11, 2010
need you.
Last night, a few of us were talking about relationships, and things. And I had this thought.
You know how it's the biggest thing, to tell someone you need them? What is that, anyway? You need oxygen, you need food, you need human contact. But you don't need it from one specific human. People are not constant; they change and grow and evolve. How can you need something that's always different? What if you need it the way it was, and not hte way it is now?
I don't believe it's a compliment, for someone to need me like that. And I would never want to need any one person. Yes, I need people who care in my life, but I can always find a someone. To me it's a greater compliment, it means more for someone to want to be around me not because they need me for their own survival, but because they love me. Need only encompasses their heart and desires and urges. To love someone goes further than what they give you, it extends through that person's good days and bad days, their ugly moments and trials and those awful, rainy days when you've been together for a moment too long. Love is acceptance, love is compassion. I would rather someone who can be happy for me and sad for me, someone who wants to protect and cherish, someone I want to protect and cherish, than someone who can't function without me. In then end, the friends and lovers and family memebers who love you will stick around long after the friends and lovers and family memebers who need you have found a better fill for those needs.
You know how it's the biggest thing, to tell someone you need them? What is that, anyway? You need oxygen, you need food, you need human contact. But you don't need it from one specific human. People are not constant; they change and grow and evolve. How can you need something that's always different? What if you need it the way it was, and not hte way it is now?
I don't believe it's a compliment, for someone to need me like that. And I would never want to need any one person. Yes, I need people who care in my life, but I can always find a someone. To me it's a greater compliment, it means more for someone to want to be around me not because they need me for their own survival, but because they love me. Need only encompasses their heart and desires and urges. To love someone goes further than what they give you, it extends through that person's good days and bad days, their ugly moments and trials and those awful, rainy days when you've been together for a moment too long. Love is acceptance, love is compassion. I would rather someone who can be happy for me and sad for me, someone who wants to protect and cherish, someone I want to protect and cherish, than someone who can't function without me. In then end, the friends and lovers and family memebers who love you will stick around long after the friends and lovers and family memebers who need you have found a better fill for those needs.
Monday, May 31, 2010
two inches tall
I had an amazing weekend...friends over, went out a bunch, really loved it. I baked and I tanned and I've been feeling really good about life, this weekend. But today.
Today I woke up and started cleaning everything. Bugsy won't stop texting me, and all I could think about were the people I missed. I miss Lisa...summer was our time. We used to lay out by the pool, we used to let the radio play. We used to love this time of day, when it's hot and lazy. And my mom.....the farmer's market will be in the square in a few weeks, but she won't be there. I don't know why that thought hurts more than anything else has, but it does.
So they got home from camping and it was just...why didn't you do this, you did this and this and this wrong, why didn't you do that? Go do this now, but do this too, and my dad parked my car because no one would tell me where to park it, and he parked it a fucking ditch. My car, my baby.......they know how careful I am with it, how protective I feel, and I trusted him and he parked it in a fucking ditch, right by the trees with the blowing and the scratching.....
i just...she makes me feel like I can't do anything right. I try so hard every time to clean the way she wants, and it's always wrong, but if I don't try she gets even angrier, and it's just so frustrating. I just want to do it right, and I never can.
Today I woke up and started cleaning everything. Bugsy won't stop texting me, and all I could think about were the people I missed. I miss Lisa...summer was our time. We used to lay out by the pool, we used to let the radio play. We used to love this time of day, when it's hot and lazy. And my mom.....the farmer's market will be in the square in a few weeks, but she won't be there. I don't know why that thought hurts more than anything else has, but it does.
So they got home from camping and it was just...why didn't you do this, you did this and this and this wrong, why didn't you do that? Go do this now, but do this too, and my dad parked my car because no one would tell me where to park it, and he parked it a fucking ditch. My car, my baby.......they know how careful I am with it, how protective I feel, and I trusted him and he parked it in a fucking ditch, right by the trees with the blowing and the scratching.....
i just...she makes me feel like I can't do anything right. I try so hard every time to clean the way she wants, and it's always wrong, but if I don't try she gets even angrier, and it's just so frustrating. I just want to do it right, and I never can.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
boogers
I stayed at Alyssa's last night, and now I am congested.
Everyone was drunk, but it wasn't bad. Apparantly, Carrie's the only one who pressures me, so overall it's not that awful. I didn't touch anything, but I wasn't judgey either, which is new for me.
Overall, not awful. Parts were weird and others hilarious, but by morning I really wanted to be gone. No one was hungover, just awkward. I got out of there quickly, problem solved.
Everyone was drunk, but it wasn't bad. Apparantly, Carrie's the only one who pressures me, so overall it's not that awful. I didn't touch anything, but I wasn't judgey either, which is new for me.
Overall, not awful. Parts were weird and others hilarious, but by morning I really wanted to be gone. No one was hungover, just awkward. I got out of there quickly, problem solved.
Monday, May 17, 2010
understood
I keep speaking. But the words...they aren't working for me, anymore. I say things, and what come out isn't what I mean. Or, it isn't heard the way I meant it. And I keep wanting to say, no, you've got it all wrong.
But I'm sick of defending myself. I'm tired. I don't want to play that 'nobody understands' card....but I'm feeling so alone. So alone in the loss of my mom, so alone in my relationship confusion, so alone in my head. And I just want someone to come in, strip off their opinions, and help me sort this out. I don't know what I want. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know. I'm sick of walking with fake purpose though, I don't want to look back and see that I bought something because I'd look stupid if I didn't, or because I was in line anyway. I want a life that I meant, a life that I chose, and I want all the people in it to feel chosen. I know what it is to be a burden, to be something that just happened, an accident. I won't do that to anyone else.
But I'm sick of defending myself. I'm tired. I don't want to play that 'nobody understands' card....but I'm feeling so alone. So alone in the loss of my mom, so alone in my relationship confusion, so alone in my head. And I just want someone to come in, strip off their opinions, and help me sort this out. I don't know what I want. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know. I'm sick of walking with fake purpose though, I don't want to look back and see that I bought something because I'd look stupid if I didn't, or because I was in line anyway. I want a life that I meant, a life that I chose, and I want all the people in it to feel chosen. I know what it is to be a burden, to be something that just happened, an accident. I won't do that to anyone else.
Monday, May 10, 2010
bugsy
So, this old friend Travis and I facebooked. And facebook turned into chatting, which turned into texting, and now we're meeting up for coffee. It makes me really happy that he wants to get in contact again, that I'm important to him.
It also kind of hurts, when I compare it to Pj, who couldn't care less. Like, what the hell? I thought I was important to him. Obviously, you don't have to let the chips fall where they may - you can pick them up, you can rearrange them. We don't have to call it quits, we don't have to give up when it's hard. But I can't do this on my own...
It also kind of hurts, when I compare it to Pj, who couldn't care less. Like, what the hell? I thought I was important to him. Obviously, you don't have to let the chips fall where they may - you can pick them up, you can rearrange them. We don't have to call it quits, we don't have to give up when it's hard. But I can't do this on my own...
Thursday, May 6, 2010
fancy party
Last night was Joe's fancy party. I wore the white dress and looked pretty, with my hair all curled and fancy-like, AND I made cookies. Chocolate with chocolate chunks and chocolate chips. I wanted to put peanut butter, too, but Joe's allergic. So.
When Ry and I got there, no one else was around, and we hung around in the front yard. Brad and Madison got there, then....and soon, it was all couples - Joe and Kelora, Brad and Madison, Becca and Mike....and then me, and Ryan, which made things weird. But I guess we're used tothat by now, so we all hung out and I was really quiet and shy...but then everyone went upstairs, where all the band equipment is, and the guys started jamming. Kelora and Madison went downstairs soon - Brad was still down there - and it was just Becca and I, watching Mike and Ryan with their guitars, and Joe on drums.
They were really good. They were just jamming, no big deal...but it was cool. I liked being there a lot, with the loud noise, and all three guys enjoying themselves SO MUCH, and this awesome music coming out of people I know. They would see if they could turn one song into another, and there was just this awesome feeling of challenging one another, seeing how far they could get....I know that feeling, I know how good it feels to see how long or well I can write, how long of a stretch I can go before I look up, how in the zone I can get. And it was so cool, to see someone else in that place, joy evident on their faces.
Joe went downstairs, and eventually Becca did too. the three of us hung out, with Mike and Ryan taking turns doing drums, until Jess came up and got me, and then we chilled for a while. I fit in there, and it was weird becasue I thought I'd be uncomfortable. Once it wasn't all couples, I didn't feel like such an intruder, though, and I loosened up...I had a really, really good time. Which is good, because this week is going to suck, and this weekend is mother's day which means it will super suck, and I dunno....I'm just glad I had one good night, before all the stress sets in.
When Ry and I got there, no one else was around, and we hung around in the front yard. Brad and Madison got there, then....and soon, it was all couples - Joe and Kelora, Brad and Madison, Becca and Mike....and then me, and Ryan, which made things weird. But I guess we're used tothat by now, so we all hung out and I was really quiet and shy...but then everyone went upstairs, where all the band equipment is, and the guys started jamming. Kelora and Madison went downstairs soon - Brad was still down there - and it was just Becca and I, watching Mike and Ryan with their guitars, and Joe on drums.
They were really good. They were just jamming, no big deal...but it was cool. I liked being there a lot, with the loud noise, and all three guys enjoying themselves SO MUCH, and this awesome music coming out of people I know. They would see if they could turn one song into another, and there was just this awesome feeling of challenging one another, seeing how far they could get....I know that feeling, I know how good it feels to see how long or well I can write, how long of a stretch I can go before I look up, how in the zone I can get. And it was so cool, to see someone else in that place, joy evident on their faces.
Joe went downstairs, and eventually Becca did too. the three of us hung out, with Mike and Ryan taking turns doing drums, until Jess came up and got me, and then we chilled for a while. I fit in there, and it was weird becasue I thought I'd be uncomfortable. Once it wasn't all couples, I didn't feel like such an intruder, though, and I loosened up...I had a really, really good time. Which is good, because this week is going to suck, and this weekend is mother's day which means it will super suck, and I dunno....I'm just glad I had one good night, before all the stress sets in.
Monday, April 26, 2010
needs.
I don't know. Maybe I'm not doing this the right way. Maybe I need to not write letters to my dead mother, maybe I need to stay away from Joe's. Maybe I should avoid using her as a topic for my research paper, maybe I shouldn't try so hard not to feel the rest of the time. I've never done this, I don't know how to do it right.
But I am making it through each day. Today, I laughed so hard I thought I would cry, just pillow-fighting with Ryan. And I can't stop singing, even thoug my throat is killing me. Some nights Icry on the phone to Chad, and some nights I cry myself to sleep, and some nights I fight the lump in my throat until I'm out, and then wake up with it waiting for me, and choke it down all day. I'm not sure I believe in the greiving process, I'm not sure I believe that you can just slap a process on this, tell me to go through so many steps like a horse through an obstacle field...it hurts, and I am dealing with it how I can. I'm remembering and blocking, I'm letting it come as I can handle it. I mourn and I rejoice, and I carry a sadness around with me, a permenant lump in my throat. Sometimes I need to go to Joe's just to be surrounded by people and familiar smells and sounds, sometimes I need to go to Cassie's and write until my fingers bleed. sometimes I need to not work on a paper, because I need a few minutes to myself, and some nights, I need to fall asleep listening to 'Blood Bank' and trying to remember what it felt like before she broke my heart open.
Am I healthy? I don't know. I'm doing what I need to. I don't believe all loss feels the same, I don't believe all death is the same. What I feel right now is unique, no one has ever felt this way, no one ever will. I can't explain what it is, for a Danielle to lose a Marilyn. But really, why does anyone need to know?
But I am making it through each day. Today, I laughed so hard I thought I would cry, just pillow-fighting with Ryan. And I can't stop singing, even thoug my throat is killing me. Some nights Icry on the phone to Chad, and some nights I cry myself to sleep, and some nights I fight the lump in my throat until I'm out, and then wake up with it waiting for me, and choke it down all day. I'm not sure I believe in the greiving process, I'm not sure I believe that you can just slap a process on this, tell me to go through so many steps like a horse through an obstacle field...it hurts, and I am dealing with it how I can. I'm remembering and blocking, I'm letting it come as I can handle it. I mourn and I rejoice, and I carry a sadness around with me, a permenant lump in my throat. Sometimes I need to go to Joe's just to be surrounded by people and familiar smells and sounds, sometimes I need to go to Cassie's and write until my fingers bleed. sometimes I need to not work on a paper, because I need a few minutes to myself, and some nights, I need to fall asleep listening to 'Blood Bank' and trying to remember what it felt like before she broke my heart open.
Am I healthy? I don't know. I'm doing what I need to. I don't believe all loss feels the same, I don't believe all death is the same. What I feel right now is unique, no one has ever felt this way, no one ever will. I can't explain what it is, for a Danielle to lose a Marilyn. But really, why does anyone need to know?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
car.
It rained today, and sunned at the same time, so there was a huge rainbow over the crestwood football field...like, so huge, I could see the entire arch. There were all these dark ominous clouds, and it was so nice....I don't know. bad weather makes me feel wonderful, especially when I feel like shit.
But i should not say this. Because today, I got a sympathy card that made me cry from my grandmother (all sympathy cards make me cry now. the end.) and a much better, feel-better-because-I-love you card from Carly, which made me grin like a chesire cat. Seriously, I love my friends. <3
But by far, the best part of this day was coming home to my dad, drying our car off with a towel, in the rain.
Again.
But i should not say this. Because today, I got a sympathy card that made me cry from my grandmother (all sympathy cards make me cry now. the end.) and a much better, feel-better-because-I-love you card from Carly, which made me grin like a chesire cat. Seriously, I love my friends. <3
But by far, the best part of this day was coming home to my dad, drying our car off with a towel, in the rain.
Again.
Friday, April 16, 2010
gone away
I love this song, and today it was stuck in my head all during spanish...I think it might wind up being my theme song over the next couple days. It makes me sad, but it's pretty, for an Offspring song.
Maybe in another life
I could find you there.
Pulled away before your time,
I can't deal, it's so unfair
And it feels
yeah it feels like
heaven's so far away
and it feels
yeah it feels like
the world is so cold
now that you've gone away.
Leaving flowers on your grave
to show that I still care
but black roses and hail maries
Can't bring back what's been taken from me
I reach to the sky
and call out your name
and if I could trade,
I would.
And it feels
yeah it feels like
heaven's so far away.
And it stings,
and it stings, yeah
the world is so cold
now that you've gone away.
Maybe in another life
I could find you there.
Pulled away before your time,
I can't deal, it's so unfair
And it feels
yeah it feels like
heaven's so far away
and it feels
yeah it feels like
the world is so cold
now that you've gone away.
Leaving flowers on your grave
to show that I still care
but black roses and hail maries
Can't bring back what's been taken from me
I reach to the sky
and call out your name
and if I could trade,
I would.
And it feels
yeah it feels like
heaven's so far away.
And it stings,
and it stings, yeah
the world is so cold
now that you've gone away.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
it only rains when it's raining.
Today, it seems like everything - TV, facebook quotes, classes - is about death. It's so funny.....like the universe knows what happened today.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
sure, we can talk about you.
So, today I came home from work, and while I'm eating dinner, I'm venting. Just telling my mom/dad/family about what went down today, and how ridiculous it was. and my dad kept interrupting. But it wasn't like, 'Oh, I totally agree.' No, it was 'MY work makes me do this,...' and 'I have to do this.' I kept trying to talk, to share, and it all kept coming back to him.
Perhaps this is why we don't get along? I know I'm not perfect, and that I've done that too....but it's like every conversation anymore. Yes, yes, the world revolves around you. Yes, tell me about your work and your stress and your anger, I'm just RIVETED. I'm trying to tell you something. You complain all the time, you bug me that we don't communicate, I don't share, I don't try. Well I am trying, feebly but all the same and you are turning it back to you. I'm trying to tell you things, and you're talking over me like you always do.
Perhaps this is why we don't get along? I know I'm not perfect, and that I've done that too....but it's like every conversation anymore. Yes, yes, the world revolves around you. Yes, tell me about your work and your stress and your anger, I'm just RIVETED. I'm trying to tell you something. You complain all the time, you bug me that we don't communicate, I don't share, I don't try. Well I am trying, feebly but all the same and you are turning it back to you. I'm trying to tell you things, and you're talking over me like you always do.
well, yes. He is.
I am near exploding, right now.
Does no one remember Stephanie? Does no one remember giving me hell because my boyfriend was going for italian ice and coffee and lunch with another girl? Or how about the girl he took to church? Or how about his coworkers, who are mostly female, his youth group with a bunch of pretty girls? That's right - my boyfriend hangs out with other girls, and I don't have a damn problem with it. I don't trust them but I trust him, and it takes two to tango, so I know that as long as he's involved nothing bad is going to happen.
Now. I have mostly female friends. I work with women. I don't really talk to any guys in my classes. I hang out with ONE guy - Ryan. One. And sure, we hang out a lot. But I hang out with Cassie a lot, too, and Ryan is like the only other person out here who wants to do things. So...why the double standard? Why can he be around women, but if I'm around a guy I need to be 'careful'? Ryan isn't going to do anything, he knows I'll kill him, and if he does anything...the friendship's over. Finito. So why is it so different?
It's not Chad's fault...he's been good about this. I'm just so sick of everyone else on my back, like if they don't remind me, I'm going to mess it all up for myself. I know I've made dumb decisions, but I love Chad, and I love what our future looks like, and I love who I am with him. He is incredible, and I know when I've struck gold....I'm not dumb, I'm not. I just wish my family and friends would have faith in me. It stings to see that even though I've come so far, I'll always be a fuck up in their eyes.
Does no one remember Stephanie? Does no one remember giving me hell because my boyfriend was going for italian ice and coffee and lunch with another girl? Or how about the girl he took to church? Or how about his coworkers, who are mostly female, his youth group with a bunch of pretty girls? That's right - my boyfriend hangs out with other girls, and I don't have a damn problem with it. I don't trust them but I trust him, and it takes two to tango, so I know that as long as he's involved nothing bad is going to happen.
Now. I have mostly female friends. I work with women. I don't really talk to any guys in my classes. I hang out with ONE guy - Ryan. One. And sure, we hang out a lot. But I hang out with Cassie a lot, too, and Ryan is like the only other person out here who wants to do things. So...why the double standard? Why can he be around women, but if I'm around a guy I need to be 'careful'? Ryan isn't going to do anything, he knows I'll kill him, and if he does anything...the friendship's over. Finito. So why is it so different?
It's not Chad's fault...he's been good about this. I'm just so sick of everyone else on my back, like if they don't remind me, I'm going to mess it all up for myself. I know I've made dumb decisions, but I love Chad, and I love what our future looks like, and I love who I am with him. He is incredible, and I know when I've struck gold....I'm not dumb, I'm not. I just wish my family and friends would have faith in me. It stings to see that even though I've come so far, I'll always be a fuck up in their eyes.
Monday, April 5, 2010
battle royale?
So...Ry and I are getting pretty close.
How can we not, right? He just met my boyfriend (went well) everytime we hang out, we pretty much just talk for hours about our deep feelings and stuff n junk....and I see him several times a week, we talk on facebook...he considers me a close friend, I consider him something of the like. The greatest thing is, it's not just me wanting to hang out...he plans things too, he calls me too, he messages me too. For once, I feel like someone wants to be my friend, instead of me trying so damn hard to keep my grip on them. He's basically in my top five right now, of closies - Chad, Cass, Lita, Ry and Cody. People who know things - you get it.
So we're talking lat night and Pj comes up, and Ryan tells me that he heard something about Pj from Jess V. , and I was like 'WHAT? He talks to her, and not me?'...I went on a very unflattering rant that I will not repeat, because Pj and I were once close, and now we're not, and it sucks. So. Today, Pj called me while I was at work. And I texted Ry and asked if he had said anything, and he said no....so we got into a whole conversation, and stuff, and then I had to go back to work.
So Ryan texts me later today, and is like 'Hey, I'm at Joe's and Pj is here!' Joe just so happens to live in the same development as Cass, who I was hanging out with later tonight. So while I'm waiting for Cass to get home, Ry texts me again and is like 'If your plans don't work out, or whatevs, you can totally come hang out here.' Which is awkward, because I've never even MET Joe, or Mike, or Mike's girlfriend, and so half of the people there I do not know well. And I'm like '...maybe?'
So I went. I stayed half an hour-ish, while Cass ate dinner, and it was weird. Pj and I talked for maybe five minutes, and it was stilted and awkward, while Ry helped Joe and a few other kids get firewood. When Ry came back, he sat with me and we talked, and it was like....comfortable. And nice. I was totally uncomfortable, and then I just wasn't. I don't know if I'm sad or happy...Pj doesn't remember where I work or the color of my eyes, he doesn't recall the edges of my personality, which is heartbreaking, to me. We were so close, once. But Ryan can make me laugh in an instant, knows the names of the kids who bug me, can tell when I'm uncomfortable. I have lost, and I have gained. It was just weird. I thought Pj's would be the most comforting face, but it wasn't.
How can we not, right? He just met my boyfriend (went well) everytime we hang out, we pretty much just talk for hours about our deep feelings and stuff n junk....and I see him several times a week, we talk on facebook...he considers me a close friend, I consider him something of the like. The greatest thing is, it's not just me wanting to hang out...he plans things too, he calls me too, he messages me too. For once, I feel like someone wants to be my friend, instead of me trying so damn hard to keep my grip on them. He's basically in my top five right now, of closies - Chad, Cass, Lita, Ry and Cody. People who know things - you get it.
So we're talking lat night and Pj comes up, and Ryan tells me that he heard something about Pj from Jess V. , and I was like 'WHAT? He talks to her, and not me?'...I went on a very unflattering rant that I will not repeat, because Pj and I were once close, and now we're not, and it sucks. So. Today, Pj called me while I was at work. And I texted Ry and asked if he had said anything, and he said no....so we got into a whole conversation, and stuff, and then I had to go back to work.
So Ryan texts me later today, and is like 'Hey, I'm at Joe's and Pj is here!' Joe just so happens to live in the same development as Cass, who I was hanging out with later tonight. So while I'm waiting for Cass to get home, Ry texts me again and is like 'If your plans don't work out, or whatevs, you can totally come hang out here.' Which is awkward, because I've never even MET Joe, or Mike, or Mike's girlfriend, and so half of the people there I do not know well. And I'm like '...maybe?'
So I went. I stayed half an hour-ish, while Cass ate dinner, and it was weird. Pj and I talked for maybe five minutes, and it was stilted and awkward, while Ry helped Joe and a few other kids get firewood. When Ry came back, he sat with me and we talked, and it was like....comfortable. And nice. I was totally uncomfortable, and then I just wasn't. I don't know if I'm sad or happy...Pj doesn't remember where I work or the color of my eyes, he doesn't recall the edges of my personality, which is heartbreaking, to me. We were so close, once. But Ryan can make me laugh in an instant, knows the names of the kids who bug me, can tell when I'm uncomfortable. I have lost, and I have gained. It was just weird. I thought Pj's would be the most comforting face, but it wasn't.
Friday, March 26, 2010
fore thought
So Monday night I hung out with Ryan...we watched American Psycho is his basement, which was pretty interesting. We're both movie-talkers, and he needed help texting his girl, so I mostly got the general idea of the film - major points, moods and feelings. I couldn't quote it for you, couldn't give you a play-by-play.
At one point, Patrick Bateman (main character, psycho of america) tortures this hobo. Not like, physically...but mentally. 'You want money, okay...wait, no.' He just....he's so mean. He has this contempt for the poor which I find sickening, and my face was completely contorted. I could tell it was, I knew my mouth was open, that my brows were knit in this sickened shape, but I couldn't help it. Poor people...sometimes, the situation is their fault. Sometimes it's not, though. You can't look at a person and assume you know why they are what they are, or what makes them who they are...you just don't know. And you don't have the right ot assume you know, and you sure as hell don't have the right to treat them poorly because you think you know what makes them tick.
So Ry just looked at me and said "This really isn't a Danielle movie."
Which I guess is true? I mean, yeah, I was pretty upset by that. Nothing else bothered me, really. The chainsaw scene was kind of funny, getting into Patrick's head was fascinating....really, I just like to know what makes people tick. It's so strange, that this movie, with all its killing and cannibalism would bother me not because of the death and torture, but because one hobo got mistreated.
I'm flipping through the book on Amazon. everything is crisply detailed...it's kind of fascinating. I think, when I'm done with The Judges, I may, perchance read American Psycho. We'll see.
At one point, Patrick Bateman (main character, psycho of america) tortures this hobo. Not like, physically...but mentally. 'You want money, okay...wait, no.' He just....he's so mean. He has this contempt for the poor which I find sickening, and my face was completely contorted. I could tell it was, I knew my mouth was open, that my brows were knit in this sickened shape, but I couldn't help it. Poor people...sometimes, the situation is their fault. Sometimes it's not, though. You can't look at a person and assume you know why they are what they are, or what makes them who they are...you just don't know. And you don't have the right ot assume you know, and you sure as hell don't have the right to treat them poorly because you think you know what makes them tick.
So Ry just looked at me and said "This really isn't a Danielle movie."
Which I guess is true? I mean, yeah, I was pretty upset by that. Nothing else bothered me, really. The chainsaw scene was kind of funny, getting into Patrick's head was fascinating....really, I just like to know what makes people tick. It's so strange, that this movie, with all its killing and cannibalism would bother me not because of the death and torture, but because one hobo got mistreated.
I'm flipping through the book on Amazon. everything is crisply detailed...it's kind of fascinating. I think, when I'm done with The Judges, I may, perchance read American Psycho. We'll see.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
return.
So, I really thought Ash was going to kill herself tonight. She's just messed up right now, she texted me to tell me she might do something stupid, and I high-tailed it to her house.
It's been so long since I put up with this kind of drama. And it was okay..I handled it fine, I was worried, I'm still worried, but it's okay. I'm pretty sure she'll be okay. I forgot though, the way someone not eating can make me not want to eat. I am not invincible....why did I think I was? I'm still jealous and angry and scared...sometimes I think I always will be. What is left inside the shell of that furious girl? What have I got that's worth having?
I felt like such a hypocrite. She kept saying she didn't care if she died, and I didn't push her, but I made the 'that's bull shit' face. What about all those nights, though, when I cried for my mom? What about all those times I lifted my hands up, shut my eyes, and waited for the car to crash?
I am not so far beyond her. And if I don't watch myself, if I am not vigilant, I could wind up there again.
It's been so long since I put up with this kind of drama. And it was okay..I handled it fine, I was worried, I'm still worried, but it's okay. I'm pretty sure she'll be okay. I forgot though, the way someone not eating can make me not want to eat. I am not invincible....why did I think I was? I'm still jealous and angry and scared...sometimes I think I always will be. What is left inside the shell of that furious girl? What have I got that's worth having?
I felt like such a hypocrite. She kept saying she didn't care if she died, and I didn't push her, but I made the 'that's bull shit' face. What about all those nights, though, when I cried for my mom? What about all those times I lifted my hands up, shut my eyes, and waited for the car to crash?
I am not so far beyond her. And if I don't watch myself, if I am not vigilant, I could wind up there again.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
you don't.
No, I'm not going to tell you what I'm doing online. It's my computer - I bought it, with MY money. You have no right to know what I do on it, or what websites I go onto.
And so what if I have a facebook? Are you upset that you don't know about it, that I don't share with you, that we aren't "friends"? All my life, you've told me that parents are parents, not friends. Never friends. Why do you want to be my friend, now? So that you can see who else I'm friends with? So that you can moniter my activity, all the time? So that you can search my pictures and my comments and the comments on me, rifle through my life for flaws, any flaws, and tear me to shreds? I'm not stupid. I've watched you do this to Lisa, to all of my cousins. I'm not dumb enough to believe that you wouldn't do it to me.
You are my parent, and I understand that you want to be a part of my life. But I don't owe you that, not anymore. You need to be willing to accept what I will give you...you need to be happy with what I want to share. I told you about Ryan, I tell you what you need to know. When I am ready, I will share. But you...you take such small things, and make them so huge. You take a picture of a friendly peck and turn it into a lover's kiss. You take a song quote and turn it into a declaration. If you cannot understand someone as simple as her....how can I trust that you will ever understand me?
And so what if I have a facebook? Are you upset that you don't know about it, that I don't share with you, that we aren't "friends"? All my life, you've told me that parents are parents, not friends. Never friends. Why do you want to be my friend, now? So that you can see who else I'm friends with? So that you can moniter my activity, all the time? So that you can search my pictures and my comments and the comments on me, rifle through my life for flaws, any flaws, and tear me to shreds? I'm not stupid. I've watched you do this to Lisa, to all of my cousins. I'm not dumb enough to believe that you wouldn't do it to me.
You are my parent, and I understand that you want to be a part of my life. But I don't owe you that, not anymore. You need to be willing to accept what I will give you...you need to be happy with what I want to share. I told you about Ryan, I tell you what you need to know. When I am ready, I will share. But you...you take such small things, and make them so huge. You take a picture of a friendly peck and turn it into a lover's kiss. You take a song quote and turn it into a declaration. If you cannot understand someone as simple as her....how can I trust that you will ever understand me?
Thursday, March 11, 2010
perhaps not.
So...we didn't go to Brad's...we just hung out at the park. We walked up through the park, down 309, down Church road and along South Main until we came through the park again - 4 miles, I think. And we talked. Sometimes it was all me, sometimes it was all him...we told stories, we got to know eachother, and it was nice. He likes a girl, I have a boyfriend, the lines are defined, and right now we're just coloring the insides, determining what, exactly, this friendship will look like to us.
He reminds me of Cassie...when I first met her, she was so cool. She loved bands I'd never heard of and everyone wanted to be around her, and I wanted to be around her. She knows all these amazing people, and yet she wants to hang out with me. At BMA, it was the same with Carly. It seemed like in our group of friends, she was the hub - the one we all had in common, the Great Uniter. It blew my mind that I got to be her best friend, that I was one of those people she wanted to be around. I was so angry and ugly and gross, and still, there was something about me that was good enough for her.
With Ryan, it's kind of the same thing. Everyone likes him, everyone wants a piece. And I'm just this girl, this small girl who struggles with an eating disorder and has to try to make it through each day, a walking disaster constantly on the brink of self-destruction. Somewhere in there, he sees someone he wants to be friends with, someone with something to offer. I am flattered, and I am grateful. Between Carly and Cassie and Ryan's friendship, and then Chad, who for some mysterious reason wants to spend his life with me, I am beginning to think that maybe, perhaps I am not just a trainwreck, a bag of scar tissue and anger. I am someone who other people actually want to be around. I am someone who is worthwhile.
He reminds me of Cassie...when I first met her, she was so cool. She loved bands I'd never heard of and everyone wanted to be around her, and I wanted to be around her. She knows all these amazing people, and yet she wants to hang out with me. At BMA, it was the same with Carly. It seemed like in our group of friends, she was the hub - the one we all had in common, the Great Uniter. It blew my mind that I got to be her best friend, that I was one of those people she wanted to be around. I was so angry and ugly and gross, and still, there was something about me that was good enough for her.
With Ryan, it's kind of the same thing. Everyone likes him, everyone wants a piece. And I'm just this girl, this small girl who struggles with an eating disorder and has to try to make it through each day, a walking disaster constantly on the brink of self-destruction. Somewhere in there, he sees someone he wants to be friends with, someone with something to offer. I am flattered, and I am grateful. Between Carly and Cassie and Ryan's friendship, and then Chad, who for some mysterious reason wants to spend his life with me, I am beginning to think that maybe, perhaps I am not just a trainwreck, a bag of scar tissue and anger. I am someone who other people actually want to be around. I am someone who is worthwhile.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
flowers
I'm planting sunflowers and morning glories. I'll buy more in April, when there's no more danger of frost, and I can use my big pots, for outside. Right now, I've got the sunflowers lined up in gatorade cups on the windowsill - one for each of the girls. I'm soaking the morning glory seeds over night, and then I'll do the same with a few of them.
I'm excited. Sometimes, I need something like this to look forward to, something small and out of my control. Those seeds won't pop up for two weeks, but when they do it will be a glorious little miracle. I keep going back over to them to breathe in that deep, earthy smell, to imagine those little seeds so safe and warm, until they open up and push to the surface.
I want a garden. I want my nails fill with dirt, I want to cultivate and grow, to be the lady with the green thumb. I keep thinking about seeds and plants and life, and how wonderful it is to help something grow, to help bring it to the sunlight.
I'm excited. Sometimes, I need something like this to look forward to, something small and out of my control. Those seeds won't pop up for two weeks, but when they do it will be a glorious little miracle. I keep going back over to them to breathe in that deep, earthy smell, to imagine those little seeds so safe and warm, until they open up and push to the surface.
I want a garden. I want my nails fill with dirt, I want to cultivate and grow, to be the lady with the green thumb. I keep thinking about seeds and plants and life, and how wonderful it is to help something grow, to help bring it to the sunlight.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
please stop.
Funeral plans and life insurance and what if, what if, what if....it seems so disrespectful, that shell is planning for her death while she's still alive.
It's so hard to escape. I can't sleep, and I can't stop eating, or jiggling...and when I finally, finally stop thinking about it, and move on to another thought, she brings it up, or says something...stop. just stop. I don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to sit here and worry and cry and twist my hands together....my heart hurts more than you can possibly understand. Have you ever lost a parent? No. no, you haven't. So shut up, and stop acting like I have no right to feel upset. That's the worst thing ever, the worst thing in the world, for you to tell me whether or not my mom is worth mourning, whether or not I loved her deeply. What the fuck do you know about her and me? What the fuck do you know about my feelings, my heart, my love? This is not your life, this is not your problem, this is not your heart, and you have no right to come in and organize my feelings, assuming you know where everything ranks in importance, where everything belongs.
It's so hard to escape. I can't sleep, and I can't stop eating, or jiggling...and when I finally, finally stop thinking about it, and move on to another thought, she brings it up, or says something...stop. just stop. I don't want to think about it anymore. I don't want to sit here and worry and cry and twist my hands together....my heart hurts more than you can possibly understand. Have you ever lost a parent? No. no, you haven't. So shut up, and stop acting like I have no right to feel upset. That's the worst thing ever, the worst thing in the world, for you to tell me whether or not my mom is worth mourning, whether or not I loved her deeply. What the fuck do you know about her and me? What the fuck do you know about my feelings, my heart, my love? This is not your life, this is not your problem, this is not your heart, and you have no right to come in and organize my feelings, assuming you know where everything ranks in importance, where everything belongs.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
she said that?
My mom is on oxygen....and I'm scared. I'm scared and it sucks and I'm in that place again, that 'should I even bother going?' place, because I'm afraid that something will happen while I'm gone, and she won't make it. And that....I would never forgive myself.
I told alyssa, and you know what she said? She told me that maybe I should cut off contact. Stop getting the newsfeed, if you will.
Really? I hate that she acts like just because we're not close, I can just do that. Can you cut off your leg? Not without seriously impairing youe life. Same here. I can't just check out. She doesn't have much; neither do I. We are messed up and ugly and mismatched, but we need one another. And maybe she's not been what she should have....that doesn't make our relationship any less important, any less meaningful than another mother-daughter relationship. I love her, she loves me. What else matters?
I told alyssa, and you know what she said? She told me that maybe I should cut off contact. Stop getting the newsfeed, if you will.
Really? I hate that she acts like just because we're not close, I can just do that. Can you cut off your leg? Not without seriously impairing youe life. Same here. I can't just check out. She doesn't have much; neither do I. We are messed up and ugly and mismatched, but we need one another. And maybe she's not been what she should have....that doesn't make our relationship any less important, any less meaningful than another mother-daughter relationship. I love her, she loves me. What else matters?
Sunday, February 28, 2010
requiem for a dream
We didn't think it would be so bad. i knew it was a drug movie, that it was sad....it's the kind of thing that gets to anyone. But toward the end there, when it got bad, all I could do was say 'ohmigod.' Just over and over and over again.
It starts with this kid, Harry. He's twenty-something, and he's visiting his mom, who lives in a senior center...the kind of apartment building where old people live, but no one really keeps tabs on them. He takes her TV, to sell for heroin money. She's so happy just to see him...his father is dead and he barely visits, he's her only son. She watches this stupid inspirational show, Tappy, all the time. It's the only thing she has, and he takes it from her, doesn't even stay to talk. He sells it and gets heroin, and he and his buddy Ty get high, and he taks some to his girlfriend, Marian, and they get high.
But it's okay. His mom has been invited to be a contestant on Tappy's show. She's going to loose 10 pounds so she can fit into the red dress she wore to Harry's graduation, before her husband dies. She can't seem to loose the weight, so she goes to this doctor who gives her all these pills - pills for meals, pills for morning, pills for night. She doesn't realize it's speed.
But then Harry is selling heroin and he buys her a new TV, he tries to do right by her, and he realizes that she's on speed and tries to get her to stop, but she explains that loosing weight and Tappy's show are all she has, all that's left to wake up for. He doesn't tell her that drugs are ruining his life, because he knows it would kill her. she wants so badly to believe that her son is good. She invites him to dinner, he agrees to bring Marian.
But then he gets high, and his supplier gets shot and there's no heroin, anywhere. He Ty and Marian are going through crazy withdrawl, and they have no money. His mom can't stop popping speed. She gets completely strung out and gets on a train to Madison Square Gardens, but she doesn't know if it's the right train or not. They haven't told her yet if she'll be on the show or not, but she keeps having visions of winning, of being thin and beautiful in her red dress. At the same time that she's being taken to the hospital, Ty and Harry get arrested in Florida because Harry's needle hole is infected and Ty takes him to the hospital. Ty goes to jail and Harry has to have his arm amputated, and they lock up his mom and cut off her red hair because they think she's crazy. Marian starts having sex for Coke, and Harry calls her from the hospital to promise that he's coming home. He wakes up after his amputation calling her name. The nurse tells him that she's coming and he says..'no. she's not.'
and you know he's right.
It was awful. My mother was everywhere. Promising things would be okay and believing it, even though there was no way...even though there is no way. And that old lady, wandering around so proud of her son, so deluded, and the way people looked at her like she was crazy..that is my mother. It hurt so bad, to see the look on Harry's face when he realized over and over what his addiction had done to him....how many times has she felt like that? How often does she get off the phone upset, realizing that she screwed me over, that she screwed us all over for her booze and her pot and her men? How many beers does it take to drown it all out?
I was sitting there on Cassie's couch, biting my arm so she wouldn't hear me sobbing. I have never cried so much during a movie....my mother. My poor, poor mother.
It starts with this kid, Harry. He's twenty-something, and he's visiting his mom, who lives in a senior center...the kind of apartment building where old people live, but no one really keeps tabs on them. He takes her TV, to sell for heroin money. She's so happy just to see him...his father is dead and he barely visits, he's her only son. She watches this stupid inspirational show, Tappy, all the time. It's the only thing she has, and he takes it from her, doesn't even stay to talk. He sells it and gets heroin, and he and his buddy Ty get high, and he taks some to his girlfriend, Marian, and they get high.
But it's okay. His mom has been invited to be a contestant on Tappy's show. She's going to loose 10 pounds so she can fit into the red dress she wore to Harry's graduation, before her husband dies. She can't seem to loose the weight, so she goes to this doctor who gives her all these pills - pills for meals, pills for morning, pills for night. She doesn't realize it's speed.
But then Harry is selling heroin and he buys her a new TV, he tries to do right by her, and he realizes that she's on speed and tries to get her to stop, but she explains that loosing weight and Tappy's show are all she has, all that's left to wake up for. He doesn't tell her that drugs are ruining his life, because he knows it would kill her. she wants so badly to believe that her son is good. She invites him to dinner, he agrees to bring Marian.
But then he gets high, and his supplier gets shot and there's no heroin, anywhere. He Ty and Marian are going through crazy withdrawl, and they have no money. His mom can't stop popping speed. She gets completely strung out and gets on a train to Madison Square Gardens, but she doesn't know if it's the right train or not. They haven't told her yet if she'll be on the show or not, but she keeps having visions of winning, of being thin and beautiful in her red dress. At the same time that she's being taken to the hospital, Ty and Harry get arrested in Florida because Harry's needle hole is infected and Ty takes him to the hospital. Ty goes to jail and Harry has to have his arm amputated, and they lock up his mom and cut off her red hair because they think she's crazy. Marian starts having sex for Coke, and Harry calls her from the hospital to promise that he's coming home. He wakes up after his amputation calling her name. The nurse tells him that she's coming and he says..'no. she's not.'
and you know he's right.
It was awful. My mother was everywhere. Promising things would be okay and believing it, even though there was no way...even though there is no way. And that old lady, wandering around so proud of her son, so deluded, and the way people looked at her like she was crazy..that is my mother. It hurt so bad, to see the look on Harry's face when he realized over and over what his addiction had done to him....how many times has she felt like that? How often does she get off the phone upset, realizing that she screwed me over, that she screwed us all over for her booze and her pot and her men? How many beers does it take to drown it all out?
I was sitting there on Cassie's couch, biting my arm so she wouldn't hear me sobbing. I have never cried so much during a movie....my mother. My poor, poor mother.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
snooooooooooooooooooow
I hate the snow less when it means I don't have to go to school. I got a paper out of the way, excercised, and now feel complete. Yay snow!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
february
I used to hate november. Awful, awful things happen to me in november. Apparantly, awful things happen in february too.
There was all that crap with my dad, and now this....my mom is sick, again. She's been in the hospital since monday and got out today. Something is wrong with her heart, but they can't figure out what, so they let her go. Is it because she's poor? Because I kind of think it is. I think they went 'Oh, we have another MediCare patient. Boyfriend brought her in...she went out for lotto tickets and smokes, and came back sick. She smells like beer and looks like she's been living out of a cardboard box for a while...'
Did they let her go because she doesn't deserve their care? Because she's just some old bag lady, and they have better people to save? They should have done more tests. She had a all the symptoms of a heart attack...why did they let her go?
She's not just a bag lady. As much as I hate to say this, she's Sal's companion ( does not mean I like him, at all). She's Rose Matusik's daughter, and she's MY MOTHER. I don't care how poor or ugly or beaten she is, or how much of it is her fault, for drinking and doing drugs and all of that. She's still my mother, and she's still sick. They don't get to decide if she's worth saving, or not. Everyone is worth saving.
There was all that crap with my dad, and now this....my mom is sick, again. She's been in the hospital since monday and got out today. Something is wrong with her heart, but they can't figure out what, so they let her go. Is it because she's poor? Because I kind of think it is. I think they went 'Oh, we have another MediCare patient. Boyfriend brought her in...she went out for lotto tickets and smokes, and came back sick. She smells like beer and looks like she's been living out of a cardboard box for a while...'
Did they let her go because she doesn't deserve their care? Because she's just some old bag lady, and they have better people to save? They should have done more tests. She had a all the symptoms of a heart attack...why did they let her go?
She's not just a bag lady. As much as I hate to say this, she's Sal's companion ( does not mean I like him, at all). She's Rose Matusik's daughter, and she's MY MOTHER. I don't care how poor or ugly or beaten she is, or how much of it is her fault, for drinking and doing drugs and all of that. She's still my mother, and she's still sick. They don't get to decide if she's worth saving, or not. Everyone is worth saving.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
nononononononono
I keep having nightmares. I'm loosing hair and sleep. He says it's done with, I don't believe him. Will I ever feel safe?
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
how important
So it turns out we don't have the money for Andrews, and they are not offering a big enough amount of money, and I can't get all the grants we were counting on.
So what's more important? Seeing my boyfriend every month, or Andrews? Seeing New Mexico, or Andrews? Enjoying my summer, or Andrews?
But really...I can see Chad a few times during the school year, and be okay. And I can go somewhere silly like Louisianna, and be okay. And I can make the most of my summer, and be okay. Andrews is so vital to me, right now. I have hung all of my hopes on it, and maybe I'm dumb to have done that, but all I can think is that I'm getting out. I'm getting the hell out of here, I'm taking that first step....how important is it to me? Vital. It is the only thing that keeps me breathing, this hope that soon I will be somewhere else.
So what's more important? Seeing my boyfriend every month, or Andrews? Seeing New Mexico, or Andrews? Enjoying my summer, or Andrews?
But really...I can see Chad a few times during the school year, and be okay. And I can go somewhere silly like Louisianna, and be okay. And I can make the most of my summer, and be okay. Andrews is so vital to me, right now. I have hung all of my hopes on it, and maybe I'm dumb to have done that, but all I can think is that I'm getting out. I'm getting the hell out of here, I'm taking that first step....how important is it to me? Vital. It is the only thing that keeps me breathing, this hope that soon I will be somewhere else.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
I have the right
So, I made this dumb comment about it being Valentine's day...and everyone was like 'noo, why would you hate Valentine's day? It's the day of LoOoOove!'
But here's the thing. In my family, it's all pressure. Why didn't Chad get you a gift, and why didn't you get me a gift, and why did you get me a gift but not dad? And Danielle, why are you so bitter and ugly, why, why, why?
He gets me chocolate, and a stupid card, and suddenly I have to be grateful. THAT's why I hate it. Someone buys me chocolate, and now I'm required to be forgiving and loving and warm, because there has been the exchange of apologies and we hacve jumped through all the right hoops and it is all okay now. But it's just not. I don't feel safe, I feel as though I never have been, and never will be. Something in me has been changed, a root pulled loose, and now I am so completely unconnected that I cannot even fathom loving, or forgiving, or speaking again. This is beyond a grudge. I have been all poured out, I have nothing left to offer, nothing left to rip from myself and give away.
I am so much jumpier and stubborner, and I don't know...I feel so ugly now, in a way I don't know can be reversed. I want so badly to go somewhere beautiful, to restore my faith....to remember that things can really be okay for me.
But here's the thing. In my family, it's all pressure. Why didn't Chad get you a gift, and why didn't you get me a gift, and why did you get me a gift but not dad? And Danielle, why are you so bitter and ugly, why, why, why?
He gets me chocolate, and a stupid card, and suddenly I have to be grateful. THAT's why I hate it. Someone buys me chocolate, and now I'm required to be forgiving and loving and warm, because there has been the exchange of apologies and we hacve jumped through all the right hoops and it is all okay now. But it's just not. I don't feel safe, I feel as though I never have been, and never will be. Something in me has been changed, a root pulled loose, and now I am so completely unconnected that I cannot even fathom loving, or forgiving, or speaking again. This is beyond a grudge. I have been all poured out, I have nothing left to offer, nothing left to rip from myself and give away.
I am so much jumpier and stubborner, and I don't know...I feel so ugly now, in a way I don't know can be reversed. I want so badly to go somewhere beautiful, to restore my faith....to remember that things can really be okay for me.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
hard or soft?
It's funny, how much I can endure...how much I have endured. The amount of rejection and abuse and neglect and all of that shit that I've put up with, and come out okay. And the way I can cope with it now, and I'm living my life and it's great, isn't it? I remember someone telling me, forever ago, that it was so cool that I'd come to terms with who I was and my past, my future...that most people who have been through all I have take years and years, but at seventeen I had it all figured out.
I don't.
Sometimes, I feel like one of those little russian dolls. There are about a million of me, but they're all just hollow shells....and each one is meant for a different person. There is a big hard Danielle for the people at school, and a smaller, hard Danielle for the majority of my friends. I am a bitch, and we laugh about it, I laugh about it, and I get mad and big when I want to crumple, and I yell when I want to cry, because I am ashamed. Inside of all of those hard wooden dolls, at the center of it all is a little girl made of clay, breakable and delicate and so, so tiny....so small she's invisible.
Am I strong? I shake when people yell, and I want to cry when someone corrects me because I can't handle not being perfect. I have panic attacks and I have to listen to Bob Dylan in order to go to sleep...I surround myself with pillows and stuffed animals because after fifteen years of 'safety', I am still conviced that my mother's ex-boyfriend is going to strangle me in my sleep. I have closed off some aspect of myself to everyone in my life, even if it's just one dumb little thing, because I am afraid, I am terrified, that if anyone knew me completely....they wqouldn't want me anymore.
I don't.
Sometimes, I feel like one of those little russian dolls. There are about a million of me, but they're all just hollow shells....and each one is meant for a different person. There is a big hard Danielle for the people at school, and a smaller, hard Danielle for the majority of my friends. I am a bitch, and we laugh about it, I laugh about it, and I get mad and big when I want to crumple, and I yell when I want to cry, because I am ashamed. Inside of all of those hard wooden dolls, at the center of it all is a little girl made of clay, breakable and delicate and so, so tiny....so small she's invisible.
Am I strong? I shake when people yell, and I want to cry when someone corrects me because I can't handle not being perfect. I have panic attacks and I have to listen to Bob Dylan in order to go to sleep...I surround myself with pillows and stuffed animals because after fifteen years of 'safety', I am still conviced that my mother's ex-boyfriend is going to strangle me in my sleep. I have closed off some aspect of myself to everyone in my life, even if it's just one dumb little thing, because I am afraid, I am terrified, that if anyone knew me completely....they wqouldn't want me anymore.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
aches
When my sister ran away, I started getting nauseous, and suddenly, I was nauseous all the time, every day. I'm still nauseous every day, almost two years later.
Since last Wednesday, I have had a stomach ache every day. I think my body is trying to kill me from the inside out.
Since last Wednesday, I have had a stomach ache every day. I think my body is trying to kill me from the inside out.
Monday, February 1, 2010
silence is golden
it is something worse than pain, to realize that all this time...I kept it in, I tried to protect myself and them, and everything I could. We've dashed down the trees and ripped our happy home apart, I have ripped our happy home apart, and exposed them to all the terror in me....
and what for? I am still as scared and angry and confused as ever, he is still a monster in my closet. The only difference is that now, we're not even speaking, or pretending. Ah, the age of industry, and the things we accomplish.
and what for? I am still as scared and angry and confused as ever, he is still a monster in my closet. The only difference is that now, we're not even speaking, or pretending. Ah, the age of industry, and the things we accomplish.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
done.
So, I keep thinking about New Mexico, and all the things that are standing in my way. I'm finding, increasingly, that the persons concerned are completely inconsiderate of me...so why the hell do I care?
...I don't think I do, anymore.
Work was hell, today. There have been days where I wanted to quit, but what bothered me more than anything today wasn't the frustration, or even the ridiculously high stress level. It was the fact that my boss didn't warn me, didn't help, and did nothing to alieve the stress. She just sat around and watched me freak out. It was so hard, today, and she wouldn't help, she didn't do ANYTHING. And I was so frustrated, I just wanted to cry, and Ash did too. It sucked.
This is the woman I'm worried about offending? I'm going to put the kabosh on my summer plans to help her, when she won't help me? Why do I care? Why am I worried about her, when she obviously doesn't care about me, or my health?
And then there's my friends. I'm supposed to go to Assateague with them, but lately I'm like...why? Lyss blows me off for Colton all the time, no one else really knows me...why is it worth it, to me? They asked what times were good, I said early June, and it was like ''oh, no! too cold!' I figured if I went before school got out, Maureen wouldn't miss me, and it wouldn't really count as vacation time, so I could do both. But seriously? If they're not willing to work, why ask? Why bother pretending to care about my opinion, if you don't?
So, screw them. If it doesn't work out, I'm not going to bother. I'm just going to take August off of work, or whatever, and skip out on Assateague if I have to, and do what I want, for a change, instead of worrying about people who don't consider my feelings, or wants, or needs. Seriously, I'm just done.
...I don't think I do, anymore.
Work was hell, today. There have been days where I wanted to quit, but what bothered me more than anything today wasn't the frustration, or even the ridiculously high stress level. It was the fact that my boss didn't warn me, didn't help, and did nothing to alieve the stress. She just sat around and watched me freak out. It was so hard, today, and she wouldn't help, she didn't do ANYTHING. And I was so frustrated, I just wanted to cry, and Ash did too. It sucked.
This is the woman I'm worried about offending? I'm going to put the kabosh on my summer plans to help her, when she won't help me? Why do I care? Why am I worried about her, when she obviously doesn't care about me, or my health?
And then there's my friends. I'm supposed to go to Assateague with them, but lately I'm like...why? Lyss blows me off for Colton all the time, no one else really knows me...why is it worth it, to me? They asked what times were good, I said early June, and it was like ''oh, no! too cold!' I figured if I went before school got out, Maureen wouldn't miss me, and it wouldn't really count as vacation time, so I could do both. But seriously? If they're not willing to work, why ask? Why bother pretending to care about my opinion, if you don't?
So, screw them. If it doesn't work out, I'm not going to bother. I'm just going to take August off of work, or whatever, and skip out on Assateague if I have to, and do what I want, for a change, instead of worrying about people who don't consider my feelings, or wants, or needs. Seriously, I'm just done.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
too
Maybe I am too far gone -
too broken,
overprotective of these
slivers of heart
held tightly in my
palms.
too angry,
simmering in my
own fury,
saturated,
marinated in
frustration and hatred.
too sad,
mourning years of words
I left unspoken,
hands never reached for,
the love I kept locked in
for fear that it would bleed
away-
Maybe I am too much
for you.
Maybe I always will be.
too broken,
overprotective of these
slivers of heart
held tightly in my
palms.
too angry,
simmering in my
own fury,
saturated,
marinated in
frustration and hatred.
too sad,
mourning years of words
I left unspoken,
hands never reached for,
the love I kept locked in
for fear that it would bleed
away-
Maybe I am too much
for you.
Maybe I always will be.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
giant's despair
so, sunday night chad kidnapped me, and tried to take me to Giant's. He couldn't find it, though, and evewn when I helped him, it was too foggy and slippery and scary. So, we didn't go, which was probably for the better, but still, just the idea....it was so sweet, and spontaneous. I was so, so happy.
I love Giant's Despair. I think part of it is just the name. What does that mean? Why is the giant despairing? 'Cause if I were a giant, I wouldn't be upset! I'd stomp around, and make people do my bidding. I'd eat trees and stuff, and be like 'rawr! om, nom nom nom!'. It would be awesome.
But then, I think about the actual place...it's a cliff, basically, that overlooks all of Wilkes-Barre. When you sit there, you feel so tiny, and the world feels so big...in a good way. Like there is all this beauty, all these possibilities, and you are only covering a corner, only seeing the tiniest speck of the picture. But a giant would never feel like that...you could never dangle your feet over a precipice, or feel insignificant, or have the city splayed out beneath you, far, far away. You wouldn't have to dream of someday seeing the world, because you could swim the ocean in a few minutes and get to China, or whatever, and be all like 'woah! China, and stuff!'....So eventually, there would be nothing left to discover, nothing more to achieve.
What happens, when you accomplish everything? When you have seen everything, know everything....so often, we see the impossibility of knowing everything, or achieving all of our goals as a bad thing, but what if it's a blessing? What would life be like, if you did everything you wanted to? What would you do, when you were done?
Maybe I will never be completely satisfied with life. Maybe there will always be more to learn, more to accomplish, more to see. And yeah, I'm tiny, and I can't do much....but the mounds of things to be done, and my own tiny, insignificant self...that's what keeps me growing, you know? I have so much I want to do, but I need to be a bigger, better person in order to do all of it, or in order to do it well...so I grow, and I change, and I move along. I will never outgrow the world, or find that there's nothing left for me to do; I will always have oppertunities and mountains to climb, oceans to explore. I am tiny, and I am not despairing.
I love Giant's Despair. I think part of it is just the name. What does that mean? Why is the giant despairing? 'Cause if I were a giant, I wouldn't be upset! I'd stomp around, and make people do my bidding. I'd eat trees and stuff, and be like 'rawr! om, nom nom nom!'. It would be awesome.
But then, I think about the actual place...it's a cliff, basically, that overlooks all of Wilkes-Barre. When you sit there, you feel so tiny, and the world feels so big...in a good way. Like there is all this beauty, all these possibilities, and you are only covering a corner, only seeing the tiniest speck of the picture. But a giant would never feel like that...you could never dangle your feet over a precipice, or feel insignificant, or have the city splayed out beneath you, far, far away. You wouldn't have to dream of someday seeing the world, because you could swim the ocean in a few minutes and get to China, or whatever, and be all like 'woah! China, and stuff!'....So eventually, there would be nothing left to discover, nothing more to achieve.
What happens, when you accomplish everything? When you have seen everything, know everything....so often, we see the impossibility of knowing everything, or achieving all of our goals as a bad thing, but what if it's a blessing? What would life be like, if you did everything you wanted to? What would you do, when you were done?
Maybe I will never be completely satisfied with life. Maybe there will always be more to learn, more to accomplish, more to see. And yeah, I'm tiny, and I can't do much....but the mounds of things to be done, and my own tiny, insignificant self...that's what keeps me growing, you know? I have so much I want to do, but I need to be a bigger, better person in order to do all of it, or in order to do it well...so I grow, and I change, and I move along. I will never outgrow the world, or find that there's nothing left for me to do; I will always have oppertunities and mountains to climb, oceans to explore. I am tiny, and I am not despairing.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
books?
I have money. I am going to buy things...I am going to go to B& N with a big, fat list of books I want, used my $25 gift card, and pay cash for the difference. I am going to buy my skinny jeans and a sweater hoodie, and I am not going to worry about my $35 gift card not covering it...I am going to buy craft supplies, I am going to shop, shop, shop.
Why?
Because i have money, now.
Why?
Because i have money, now.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
sleeep
I woke up at 10:24 today, which shouldn't be something to be excited about, but it issssssssssss! Every day, I have woken up at 10:30, and changed my alarm so that it wakes me at 11, and then laid in bed until way after 11. But today? Nosirree bob! 10:24 came, and I sprung out of bed like a little...spring.
It will be a good day today. I have decided.
It will be a good day today. I have decided.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
I suck at this
..I am not a good older sister.
I feel awful. Katelynn and Sabrina are easy. I tickle them, read with them, have a few conversations with them, and we're good. But Erin annoys me. everything she does, says....everything grates on my nerves.
She has almost no personality. I know I shouldn't compare her to me...that I'm weird, or whatever. When I was her age, though....I had read 'A Christmas Carol', and 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' a bazillion times. I was trying to read 'Jane Eyre' and 'Great Expectations'....I WAS reading Jack London, and I adored him, every last bit. But she won't read anything. She reads these tiny American Girl books, 60 pages, and brags to me...and I'm like ' so what?'...only I pretend to be impressed, 'cause i'm not THAT much of a jerk. And she loves High School musical and Hannah Montana, because she sees other girls her age who like them, so she figures she should too, even though she's never seen any of them. And she says that non-christian music and dancing are bad, because that's what my mom says, and so she figures she should too. But where is Erin? Is there anything beneath all the pretentious annoyingness? Who IS she?
The other day, Matt and Erika were over playing their wii....Jason and Anna have a wii as well, they brought it on vacation with us. And Erin has played it once, maybe twice in her life...and she spent the whole time telling my brother what to do, and how to play, even though she didn't really know. My little sister is THAT KID - the one who talks about movies she walked into the room when her parents were watching, as if she knows the whole plot line. The one you don't really want to sit down at your lunch table, who does anyway. The one who calls you her friend, when you've only spoken to her twice, maybe. That's who my little sister is, and I am ashamed to admit that I can't stand to be around her much, either.
I feel like I should try to bond with her...but if I let her wathc me play sims, she gets really bossy, and tells me where I should go and what I should do. Or if I take her shopping, she tells me what I should buy, and that she thinks everything I pick out is ugly, and that I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't. And she narcs to my mom, so I can't trust her, and she judges EVERYTHING by those perfect standards my mother holds that I will never live up to...so when she's with me, it's like I'm failing her, too, by not being pious enough or pretty enough or skinny enough or big-breasted enough. I can't stand to be around her for more than an hour.....I am such a bad older sister.
I feel awful. Katelynn and Sabrina are easy. I tickle them, read with them, have a few conversations with them, and we're good. But Erin annoys me. everything she does, says....everything grates on my nerves.
She has almost no personality. I know I shouldn't compare her to me...that I'm weird, or whatever. When I was her age, though....I had read 'A Christmas Carol', and 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' a bazillion times. I was trying to read 'Jane Eyre' and 'Great Expectations'....I WAS reading Jack London, and I adored him, every last bit. But she won't read anything. She reads these tiny American Girl books, 60 pages, and brags to me...and I'm like ' so what?'...only I pretend to be impressed, 'cause i'm not THAT much of a jerk. And she loves High School musical and Hannah Montana, because she sees other girls her age who like them, so she figures she should too, even though she's never seen any of them. And she says that non-christian music and dancing are bad, because that's what my mom says, and so she figures she should too. But where is Erin? Is there anything beneath all the pretentious annoyingness? Who IS she?
The other day, Matt and Erika were over playing their wii....Jason and Anna have a wii as well, they brought it on vacation with us. And Erin has played it once, maybe twice in her life...and she spent the whole time telling my brother what to do, and how to play, even though she didn't really know. My little sister is THAT KID - the one who talks about movies she walked into the room when her parents were watching, as if she knows the whole plot line. The one you don't really want to sit down at your lunch table, who does anyway. The one who calls you her friend, when you've only spoken to her twice, maybe. That's who my little sister is, and I am ashamed to admit that I can't stand to be around her much, either.
I feel like I should try to bond with her...but if I let her wathc me play sims, she gets really bossy, and tells me where I should go and what I should do. Or if I take her shopping, she tells me what I should buy, and that she thinks everything I pick out is ugly, and that I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't. And she narcs to my mom, so I can't trust her, and she judges EVERYTHING by those perfect standards my mother holds that I will never live up to...so when she's with me, it's like I'm failing her, too, by not being pious enough or pretty enough or skinny enough or big-breasted enough. I can't stand to be around her for more than an hour.....I am such a bad older sister.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
southern train
I keep listening to Gracious Melodies (Stone Temple Pilots album) over and over...it's the only CD I own that isn't too scratched to play in the sunfire. so...yeah. today I listened to 'interstate love song' a million times. There's this one line -
'promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by'....
I love that line. 'promises of what I seemed to be'....could that apply to my life any more? Seriously?
Although, my favorite has got to be pretty penny. If anything captures the way I felt this summer, this song has got to be it. When I first heard it, it was like hearing my own heart, singing to me...kinda bizarre, but:
have you seen your mother, girl?
has she gone away?
gone away and found the pearl
but the price she paid...
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
how far will you go, I say
just to bait a mouse?
shorter lived and longer gone,
can you figure out?
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her
have you lost your sister, girl?
she's all but blown away
blown away and lost the pearl
and the price she paid.
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
'promises of what I seemed to be
only watched the time go by'....
I love that line. 'promises of what I seemed to be'....could that apply to my life any more? Seriously?
Although, my favorite has got to be pretty penny. If anything captures the way I felt this summer, this song has got to be it. When I first heard it, it was like hearing my own heart, singing to me...kinda bizarre, but:
have you seen your mother, girl?
has she gone away?
gone away and found the pearl
but the price she paid...
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
how far will you go, I say
just to bait a mouse?
shorter lived and longer gone,
can you figure out?
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her
have you lost your sister, girl?
she's all but blown away
blown away and lost the pearl
and the price she paid.
gone
when you wake in the morning
gone
when you find that there's no one sleeping
gone
pretty penny was her name
she was loved and we all will miss her.
Monday, January 4, 2010
pretty
I am not a pretty girl . I'm not being self-hating, or anything...it's just a fact. I can't speak Chinese, I have cerebral palsy. I'm not pretty.
I don't even know why it's so important to me. I mean, I have this small selection of pretty great qualities working for me, when I decide to not be a bitch, and I can be quite the lovable little lady. My whole life, I've been the smart one. Jason was the logical one, and Matt was the talented one - he never practiced soccer or piano, but outshone Jason and I in each, respectively. The only thing I've ever seen Matt work for was his pilot's license...but that came pretty easy, too.
Lisa was the pretty one. My sister is, in a word, breathtaking. Everything about her is pretty. And maybe, maybe if you know me, I guess, and you love me enough to look past the mannish cut of my brow and the sharpness of my jaw and that weird hollow in my cheeks that makes me look like a starving bag lady, you can find a prettiness, a sort of charm. I will never, can never come close to my sister's beauty, though. Flawless black hair and a tiny waist, wide hips, perfect curves, almond-shaped black eyes and a bright, sweet smile....when I would stand next to her, I looked so short and dumpy, with this awful face that looked like someone had beat it with a brick. Everywhere we went, boys would stare and mothers would comment 'oh, she's so beautiful. she should be a model. you'll never have trouble finding a man for that one.'
And me? My mother would throw a few test scores around, and I would promptly be told to go read a dictionary instead of that pointless fiction book, because a brain like mine shouldn't be wasted. I could do partical physics in front of their very eyes; they would never be as stunned by my mind as they were by her beauty.
I have filled my sister's empty shoes in a million ways. I've taken up her chores and become the older-sister figure to the kids....I do what I can. But I'm not pretty. I can't take the beauty place, I can't be the stunner. Everyone in my family is so damn skinny and so damn pretty, and I feel like some sort of monster, with my stupid chunky thighs and my boobs and my stomach, and my stupid ugly man face. I've never looked like I belonged, but now that the space where the pretty one is gaping open, I feel even worse, because I can't fill it. I can do her chores and play that supporting, shut-up-and-listen role, but I can't make myself pretty. The more I try, the more aware I become that I'm not, and that my mother thinks Erin is prettier, that everyone is jumping down to the next person, skipping right over me because I am not a beautiful skinny perfect Gray. And even though I'm smart, and loving and successful, I am not pretty, and that makes me of less value to them, even if they won't say it. How dare I ugly up their family photos. How dare I fattify their portraits. How dare I be honest, and not pretend that my sister is the only thing that's wrong with this family.
I don't even know why it's so important to me. I mean, I have this small selection of pretty great qualities working for me, when I decide to not be a bitch, and I can be quite the lovable little lady. My whole life, I've been the smart one. Jason was the logical one, and Matt was the talented one - he never practiced soccer or piano, but outshone Jason and I in each, respectively. The only thing I've ever seen Matt work for was his pilot's license...but that came pretty easy, too.
Lisa was the pretty one. My sister is, in a word, breathtaking. Everything about her is pretty. And maybe, maybe if you know me, I guess, and you love me enough to look past the mannish cut of my brow and the sharpness of my jaw and that weird hollow in my cheeks that makes me look like a starving bag lady, you can find a prettiness, a sort of charm. I will never, can never come close to my sister's beauty, though. Flawless black hair and a tiny waist, wide hips, perfect curves, almond-shaped black eyes and a bright, sweet smile....when I would stand next to her, I looked so short and dumpy, with this awful face that looked like someone had beat it with a brick. Everywhere we went, boys would stare and mothers would comment 'oh, she's so beautiful. she should be a model. you'll never have trouble finding a man for that one.'
And me? My mother would throw a few test scores around, and I would promptly be told to go read a dictionary instead of that pointless fiction book, because a brain like mine shouldn't be wasted. I could do partical physics in front of their very eyes; they would never be as stunned by my mind as they were by her beauty.
I have filled my sister's empty shoes in a million ways. I've taken up her chores and become the older-sister figure to the kids....I do what I can. But I'm not pretty. I can't take the beauty place, I can't be the stunner. Everyone in my family is so damn skinny and so damn pretty, and I feel like some sort of monster, with my stupid chunky thighs and my boobs and my stomach, and my stupid ugly man face. I've never looked like I belonged, but now that the space where the pretty one is gaping open, I feel even worse, because I can't fill it. I can do her chores and play that supporting, shut-up-and-listen role, but I can't make myself pretty. The more I try, the more aware I become that I'm not, and that my mother thinks Erin is prettier, that everyone is jumping down to the next person, skipping right over me because I am not a beautiful skinny perfect Gray. And even though I'm smart, and loving and successful, I am not pretty, and that makes me of less value to them, even if they won't say it. How dare I ugly up their family photos. How dare I fattify their portraits. How dare I be honest, and not pretend that my sister is the only thing that's wrong with this family.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
only wish
My heart is in my throat right now, because I miss you. Because three and a half years is so long, and we have spanned a thousand lifetimes, dozens of deaths and ressurections, in that time. That last night is always the worst, when there are no more excuses to stay awake, and all that's left is to wait for morning, when you'll be ripped from me...
And I know Andrews is important. I wish...I wish you could feel it, the way I do. It is so hard to do this on my own, to leave you when you want so badly for me to stay, and when I can't imagine what it will be like to have you ripped even further from me, to be the cause of my own pain...but it is so vital to me, so important to get out of this God-forsaken town, and free myself from the angry liar I've become. I want to be alive again, I want to laugh and sing all the time, instead of only when I'm sleep-deprived. I used to be that way all the time, but that girl died long before you met me....but if given the chance, I'd bring her back. Can you understand that? I want you to understand, and to feel it, and to really get it...that I am not chosing me over you, in that way, that I don't want to leave you....I fear so strongly what I will become if I don't go.
I will miss you so much. It breaks my heart to think of it, but at that same time....I'm so excited. Couldn't you do just one happy dance with me?
And I know Andrews is important. I wish...I wish you could feel it, the way I do. It is so hard to do this on my own, to leave you when you want so badly for me to stay, and when I can't imagine what it will be like to have you ripped even further from me, to be the cause of my own pain...but it is so vital to me, so important to get out of this God-forsaken town, and free myself from the angry liar I've become. I want to be alive again, I want to laugh and sing all the time, instead of only when I'm sleep-deprived. I used to be that way all the time, but that girl died long before you met me....but if given the chance, I'd bring her back. Can you understand that? I want you to understand, and to feel it, and to really get it...that I am not chosing me over you, in that way, that I don't want to leave you....I fear so strongly what I will become if I don't go.
I will miss you so much. It breaks my heart to think of it, but at that same time....I'm so excited. Couldn't you do just one happy dance with me?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)