Friday, June 30, 2000

A miserable day of trying to find myself 

I HATE MY LIFE! Every one in my life just makes me sad. My mom says she's depressed, my dad says he is depressed, and my sister won't even talk to me. Why does every thing seem as if it is conspiring against me and my family? My Opa is miserable and alone, being one year after my Oma died, he just has nothing to do. My grandpa just had a stroke this past week, and he can barely do anything anymore. My dad just feels terrible because of my Grandpa. On top of that, my dad may be out of a job, and where can he go? How will he pay for our education? For my sister's and my whole life, he's been taking everything he has and giving to us, and now, what will he do when he has nothing to give us? How will he pay for Marlborough and Dartmouth when he says he is depressed? Why am I crying right now? Because I don't know what to do, and sometimes, it feels like I have no control over anything around me, and I just want to go away somewhere and not cause any pain. I hate seeing these storms in my dad's eyes. I miss the rainbows. seven:twenty-nine pm

I'm not sure why my heart aches so much right now. My head is pounding and everywhere smells like cigarettes. Sometimes it seems as if I'm oblivious to the things around me. People, their feelings, all of it seems to flow by me without me even trying to read it. I guess I'm too caught up in my own life. I guess I assumed some things about the people in my life. I sometimes wonder whether I even know my sister. I've grown up with her, right down the hall, and sometimes it seems as if she is a world away. People say we are so alike, but if we are, why don't I understand her? She's constantly telling me this, saying, "you don't know me, Rachel," and I just throw it into the back of my mind. But with all this current reorganization, I am digging up these buried feelings, and I feel like shit. I wonder if the people around me know me. I still act in that nice, polite way around some of the people I've known all my life. I wonder if some people I see all the time have seen me in the past few years. I think this is what Marlborough is doing to me. It's killing me, and my perception of other people. Since I was a second grader, I thought I thought I was in love with someone. I forget why, but I think I still am. six:fifty-nine pm