Friday, September 8, 2000

Break it together. Bring us down.

So many things in my life have amazed me. I'm not going to tell you what they are, for fear you might think I'm crazy, but I think I will tell you that I am incredibly thankful for many of them.

In this past week, I've found myself going into the computer lab at school and sitting down at my favorite computer in the corner, and just reading other people's words during my free time. It's incredible, to be able to go somewhere on the internet, and read what someone else is thinking. I've found that I'm frequenting the boards more and more. My life is becoming narrower and narrower, and I'm not sure if that is a wonderful thing because I'm meeting people online that I admire, and I am making wonderful friends, or if it is a terrible thing, because I'm neglecting my duties as a friend in real life. I'm grateful that I share both my frees with Annalee, and that she and I have the same problem with the computer, or else I would feel very alone. There's something about talking to her that is very different than talking to any one else.

Reading about other people's problems scares me. I read about people being so depressed they take a knife to themselves, and I read about girls who have been sexually tormented since they were children. I read about girls who have led a life that they felt was pointless, and have fallen into a black hole of despair. "Why does this happen, God? I know I don't really talk to you much, but why do these sorts of things have to happen to people, and why does it have to happen to people I love?" I have been in a secluded world in a way. All my friends up until 8th grade were rich white girls and rich white boys, who lived the private life with gardeners and maids. All I've ever known are private, secluded, small schools. All I've known are the fortunate ones. My dad has strived to keep me in this world. He hasn't got the money, and he knows it, and I know it. Sometimes I lay in bed staring up at my Audrey Hepburn poster, and I just stare. I think to myself, "Why does he do this for us? Why does he care so much? Why do I get to be special? How is this fair? I wasn't born in riches, so why do I get to live this life? And if I do, how come the lesser fortunate ones can't live this life? God, how is this fair?" I talk to the God I know doesn't exist. I've never believed in a higher entity, but then I look at this world and wonder who created all the suffering and who made the people who suffer witness the fruitfulness of others. I say, "Why, God, did you have to create this world of injustice?".

I've thought I was sad. I've looked at my life and I've cried about it. My life has its problems. Don't get me wrong. I've lived with my father all my life, and I never really had a functional mother. My mother has been a manic depressive as far back as I can remember. I've questioned myself, I've questioned my sanity, I've questioned the people who have known and loved me since day one. And after a while, I can't remember why I questioned them, until I start at it again. Why the fuck am I sad? Why, gd it, have I taken a life that could have been an ecstatic one, and questioned it for no fucking reason. I remember when I was little, after my parents got separated, I went to a therapist named Dr. Manchaka. I think it didn't do me any good, and as I can remember, I think my parents pulled me out of it because all I ever did during the sessions what play games and make fun of her name. I never had a problem with my parents divorce though. And everyone assumed that I would, because supposedly all kids that go through this end up blaming themselves. Honestly, I was too little to give it a second thought, and by the time I was older, I didn't really care because I realized how incompatible my parents really are. I'm rambling, because I have absolutely no idea what my problem is. I should just shut up about it, and try to be there for others with *actual* problems.

It still bewilders Cindy how I can put my private thoughts in a journal on the world wide web. Is it really weird? It provides a sense of liberation, a way to express whatever I feel, and know that other people care enough to actually type in www.unrequited.nu and read what i have to say. It's amazing what this has provided for me. I find that even my closest friends that have known me for years see me in a new (and hopefully better) light than ever before. It makes me smile, amidst any other feeling that I have in the pit of my tummy.