I just spent the better part of 3 hours reading Amy#2's online diary. I have to say, I'm impressed with the way she's found herself and places herself in the world. I had no idea that teenie-bopper could be so deep. And while I sympathize with her and understand the teen angst she's going through, I have to say, I have suffered more.
She has no idea what it's like having to be embarrassed to live in your own home. She wouldn't understand that I can't have a girlfriend over because I'm too worried about how she would react to how my family lives. That is a hard fucking obstacle. And I very rarely wrote about it and even tried to repress it, but I knew that it wasn't healthy and that eventually I'm going to have to come to terms and simply accept it. Just as I can't fathom what it's like to be starving and without a warm place to sleep, she can't fathom this. It's incredibly difficult and has burdened my youth with worry that seems unfair for a child in his sophomore year in high school.
Yes, I was a child. I was confused, awkward, and had no idea what kind of take I should have on life. I looked around me, and I saw that everyone had it together. Everyone had plans on Fridays and Saturdays, everyone had a girlfriend or boyfriend, and everyone seemed to just enjoy life so much more than I. So, I accepted the fact that I was an outcast and tried to seek a separate alternative group of people. By looking up to my sister and connecting with maybe the only other person who could understand what I was going through, I attempted to make friends just like her and her friends.
I listened to the same music as her, watched the same movies as her, and became interested in the same interests as her. All in the hope that I could be friends with her and have friends of my own like her. She became my idol. I wanted to be just like my sister. I dyed my hair to try and fit in with her "punk" image she and her friends were into. I studied just what to say, how to act, and what to wear to be considered "punk". It had nothing at all to do with rebellion. I gave up on old friends and old interests. Sports went out the window. They're not punk, after all. So all those years I devoted to studying sports and learning everything there was to know meant nothing to me now. I hate sports. It's full of jocks. And jocks are the enemy. That's how I should act, right?
Well, eventually, I was kind of accepted into the punk community, in the same way I was kind of accepted into the 'clique' community in middle school. I was a part simply because I said I was. I felt no camaraderie, or fulfillment. I simply studied bands and what they had to say instead of athletes. Also, I learned about sXe. I was always scared to drink. Especially after the "incident" with John B. in sophomore year. Here, I found a community that was part of punk and felt the same way as I did. Still, however, they didn't capture the way I felt. Hearing words against drinking and those who drink made me happy, so I accepted everything they said without question, because my mind couldn't conceive that there could be good, decent people out there who drink. It was that beer=evil, and anyone who is sXe=good. Still, I found no real "good" people around who I felt any connection with. That is, until the day I found out about DG. I read that Retrozine article and was enlightened. It blew me away so much that I would read it constantly and always be moved by it. He became another idol of mine, however I lost no respect and admiration for my sister.
From there, things began to take their course, and the more I read of DG's, the more I felt I knew about myself. I stopped taking everything at face value and instead look at things and use my mind to figure out where and why I am doing them. I matured. I grew up. And although my mind was bombarded with crushes and petty shit like that, I began to realize my place in the whole scheme of things. I was, and still am, not fully matured, but with every passing day, I feel different. More and more different from the kid in 3rd grade who liked Melanie, but couldn't talk to her--only let her cheat off of my tests. Very different from the boy everyone in the family laughed at, crushing my self-esteem and making me feel like a pile of shit. Different from the awkward middle school kid who had no fucking clue how to talk to girls, or even other guys, for that matter. Different from the kid who would die every day in senior year by a simple gesture from Alicia.
No, I'm different now. now my problems are more long-term. When and where will I ever find someone I can really connect with? Why does everyone I become close to eventually depart? Jesus, I started this rant simply wanting to talk about Amy#2's place in relation to mine, but it turns out I just knocked out a lot of shit that's been weighing down on my brain for years now. And it feels really good. To deny myself of my depression is simply to put that depression off. Saved for a later date, dragging it with me and not dealing with it. Until eventually it becomes too big a load to handle.
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