22:01 - October 13, 2002
all i know
It's not even, like.....
If I were to start crying I couldn't call anyone. That is the scariest part. And maybe the best for me, come to think of it... there's no one to ostracize, which isn't the right word: push away, scare away, dramatize to, put a false impression to, just say it, LIE to. I don't remember ever having had a good reason to cry, a reason that I would have still used had I been in that secret cave up on the first flatiron all by my lonesome. And since I got here I haven't done it at all, because what's the point of it if it's not on anyone's shoulder? Really, what is it? I believe one of the biggest reasons for crying is so you can feel stupid about it later; laugh and go, 'what made me feel so bad?... because I can't remember, I can't even imagine.' Someone loves you enough to hold you. Someone hands you a Kleenex. Someone might even stoop to using baby talk, which makes you feel stupid but at least it's not walking away, at least it't not no one there at all.
At the moment, it is no one here at all.
The sleeping is the telltale red flag. You start sleeping because there's nothing better to do. You pull the covers over your head so you can't hear the hall noises. You sleep when you get back from class to pass the time until your next one, you sleep on Friday nights so you don't have to think about all the places where you're not, all the people you're not with. You sleep later in the morning to shorten the day and you go to sleep earlier at night for the same reason. I know someone who is asleep every time I walk in the door. Morning, noon, night, always in her pajamas, mouth slightly open, covers haphazard and smelly from not having the energy to go wash them. Her hair is oily from pillow residue though she shampoos it every day. When people come in she perks up, asking 'Where are you going? What's going on? Can I come?' only to fall back asleep after asking because she can't summon the brainpower to care about getting up and making any effort to go along, not that anyone wants her to. This girl is not me, though it sounds like the kind of stupid analogy I'd make. But she is who I am petrified of becoming. She is completely socially inept, annoying, inappropriate, and disliked by everyone. She is the scapegoat. They use her as examples of what not to do, they accuse each other of being her when angered. They tiptoe past her door at night so she won't hear them and, God forbid, ask what's up.
She does not realise this. And if she realises this, she does not know why it happens.
I cringe because I could topple either way. I identify on both sides. I find her intolerable along with the rest of them. She makes me feel sick. And I know exactly what it feels like to be sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, under those looming nightmarish dirty blankets, not dirty in my case because of my compulsive cleanliness, but still. I've cracked open an eye to see my roommate tiptoeing by. She won't wake me up in time for my three o'clock because I might accidentally thank her.

Speaking of accidents, I accidentally said some of this to my mother. In my mother's world, I should not have emotions. What I actually said, after some more simpering pride on her part about how I sound so well-adjusted and she's so proud of me, was 'As a matter of fact, before you go on any further, you should know that actually I'm FUCKING bored.'
Silence.
'But you sound like you've got so many friends.'
'I don't know how it could possibly sound that way.'
'Well, you're always telling me about them.'
'I talk to you once a week. Think about the meager amount I'm telling you, keeping in mind that I embellish, spread out over a full week.'
Silence.
'Mmm?'
And then the inevitable barrage. Parentisms. I hate these. 'It takes time.' (That's nice.) 'It took me an entire year.' (That's why you tell me stories of your wild freshman year parties.) 'Everybody gets lonely sometimes.' (Yes, they do.) 'Why don't you get involved in things?' (I am involved in more shit than I've ever been, and it does me no good.) 'Why don't you make friends with your roommate?' (Because she's a raging bitch.)
If she could hear this going on in my head, the next logical, and perhaps deserved question would be, 'and what makes you so special and different from everyone else?'
(answer: Nothing. I am a speck of dirt in the cycle of life. But I am all I feel, I am all I know.)
who can blame anyone for being self-contained? I don't want her to think my suffering (read: slamming boredom) is anything earth shattering, but to me, it is allowed to be earth shattering. I am all I feel. I am all I know.
Silence.
She takes a breath. 'I'm sorry you're not happy.'
Mom, that's all I ever need to hear. No, honestly. Forget I was ever cynical. That is all I ever need to hear.
She is crying. SHE is crying. she is hanging up the phone.

Maybe the difference is, self-contained is only all I know.

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