School is school; there is not much to talk about there. Yesterday we had a psychology test that I was not prepared for and the guy who usually sits next to me was in front of me instead. A dude from my speech class was sitting next to me, playing with his cell phone or iPod instead of taking the test. I missed having psych guy wish me good luck weirdly enough, although Emily said it… so I guess that’s okay. Something smelled horrible in that room and I relied a little too heavily on the smell of my red Gatorade to get me through it. By the time I went to Latin I think I probably had a red nose.
Moving on to today, after school- because school is just so boring… things I learned in creative writing club today: Erin, Brent’s little sister whom I have known for pretty much ever, but not very well tried to commit suicide. She is currently in a coma- she overdosed on her mother’s depression medication. Victoria’s, Brent’s girlfriend’s, parents have been cooking for Brent and Erin’s family since they have been living at the hospital practically. Michelle is fighting with an unnamed person who knows Victoria. Apparently, this person blames Victoria for the fact that Michelle had her phone off and was “ignoring” the person all of yesterday, though the reason her phone was off was not because of the ignoring thing. Victoria had no service in Erin’s hospital room except by the windows- she said she kept getting massive amounts of texts randomly throughout the day yesterday. Yelling at her for causing Michelle to ignore this person and dissing everything from her philosophy to her clothes from what I could understand. I feel like the room got a little quieter when this discussion was going on- as it always does when pertaining to death. It is what I call the silence of the eavesdroppers. They make idle chatter while actually listening to your conversation. When they realize how deep the conversation is they grow quiet, no longer chatting- just sadly empathizing.
I have grown a little, I will not say bored with, rather grown tired of death in my few years of living. I was close to my family and paid the price when my great aunt died. We went to church together every weekend, and so did Mitchell. He died a few years before she did. He killed himself. Brian died- of either overdose or while in a coma, they are not positive. Great aunt Phyllis’s son killed himself. Friends I will not list whom have tried to kill themselves, friends who have died from accidents or almost died, pets whom have grown too old, pets who have gotten run over by cars, family that has disappeared and suddenly you find them dead without really ever knowing what happened. I too have thought of killing myself at one point or another, although I always remembered the deaths of those I miss and realize what I would be doing to other people. I am the kind of person who lives to please other people rather than myself. Over the years I have been to enough eulogies and funerals to feel no tears of sadness running down my face when seeing another death come at me- yet because there have been so many deaths that I feel the need to be happy all of the time in order to cover for it. People may say I wear a mask of happiness- that no one, not even I, can be happy all of the time, but when it comes to sadness, I just became so exhausted with that sadness, with the memories of death, that it made no sense to be sad all of the time either. I do not hide my feelings; I just have no reason to feel anything but happy. I am still here. With all of the misfortunes I have seen, that in of itself is enough of a reason for me to be happy.
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