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Do I have a big target painted on my forehead? How about a big sign that says "I'M HERE TO RELIEVE YOUR STRESS, GO AHEAD AND YELL AT ME EVEN IF I DON'T DESERVE IT?!!!!! My father has a bad day and vents his anger by taking it out on me even if I don't deserve it. He and my mom both did it so far today. As if it was MY fault all this crap happened to them both today. My sister does it verbally and physically. I now have a bruise on the top of my head from her.
And for those of you who would pretend that your parents or your issues are worse, don't bother. When was the last time they rounded on you, making YOU seem like the source of all your little sister's school problems because you don't make any effort to spend time with her, when in fact the problem is that your sister's a PUSHOVER who doesn't know how to stand up for herself?
As if that's not enough. Almost all of my friends have done it to me at least once. Some more than that. For those of you that didn't, I'm sorry you have to read this, but I need to say it. One particular instance sticks forever in my mind:
Something very good has happened to me. Friend A calls in a bad mood. I, feeling happy at that moment, attempt to make it better and think I have, when they start in on me. They start to go on and on about how obsessive I am and how my music is weird and I need to find new interests. I listen to it and attempt to give my answers, but for every answer I give, Friend A has something else to say that twists the knife now stuck in my chest. I make an excuse to get off the phone. I cried then. I cried as I told my mother that someone I thought was a FRIEND had just completely and utterly destroyed me. I told her that maybe I was better off at Coventry where at least I got respect at school. They had taken something that I loved so much it was a part of me, necessary to me as much as air, and turned it into a crime.
I needed someone to talk to so I called Friend B, who convinced me to tell what had gone on. When I had finished, they said the exact same thing that Friend A had said, less meanly. I got off the phone and sat for a while, thinking about it. This thing, this special part of my life, really must be wrong. If they had said those things, these people who were supposed to be my friends, they must have meant them and been waiting for an opportunity to say them. I convinced myself that it must be true. That night, I resolved that I would remove this part of me from my life. If it could bring this type of pain, It wasn't worth it. This decision tore me apart, but I decided it was what I had to do. That night, after my resolution, I cried. More than I ever have in my life. I cried until I thought I had to die, I couldn't take it.
Keeping my resolution was as easy as tearing off my right arm with my bare hands. My life was empty. It was worse than Coventry. I lived each day as an act. When I got home I would sit and stare for hours. Not think-thought was impossible now. A space inside that had once been filled by It was now filled by the knife that my friends had stuck there and cruelly twisted into me. They realized what they had said was wrong, and now claim they didn't mean it, but then why did they say it? I act like all is normal but in truth that knife is still there, twisting deeper and deeper, slowly killing that special part of me.
Matters weren't helped later on when one of the aforementioned friends said something to me that I never wanted to hear. Hearing those hurtful words come from someone who had been my first friend in a new school was enough to completely destroy me. Those words finished the job started that summer. And later in the year, when Sasha's uncle died, the other one took out their pain on me. Mo and I share a special way to deal with our grief. We laugh. We put on a strong front. We pretend when don't feel it and deal with it when no one is watching, when no one can hear the screams. Another of the aforementioned friends took offense to our non-somber behavior and stalked off like a child having a temper tantrum. Mo became angry and I got worried. I would feel the brunt of this later. Which I did. I once more bore the brunt of a friend's anger.
For those of you that this entry offended, I'm sorry but it's the truth. No matter how much you tell me that that's not the way it happened and I didn't mean it, save your breath. Because I remember. I remember the night near the beginning of the summer when my world was pulled down around my eyes. I remember when a part of me was lost forever. I remember how it felt to scream and tear fistfuls of my hair from my head while the tears came, telling myself that I wasn't supposed to feel this way ever again. I remember the sense of hopelessness I felt when the only people I had left to turn to couldn't be there. I remember how it was my friends, people I was supposed to trust, that did it all. And I remember now just how high the price of being different is: people think preps are fake. Ha. I'm the biggest fake you'll ever meet. I live each day pretending I let go of what happened, wishing I could. But the memory of that day, at least for now, is burned into my head.
Once again, I'm sorry if this upsets anyone. That is not my intention. I'm just hoping that maybe by saying these words someone will read them and my life will change. But I'm wasting my time. How can it change, when it hasn't changed for 16 years?
I'm gonna go back to being a target now as that's all I'm ******** good for.
 Momoiro no Bara · Mon Dec 19, 2005 @ 05:42pm · 3 Comments |
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