Foto Feelings

I hate that I don’t really even know my family. I don’t know what they are truly capable of. I guess I don’t really trust anyone fully, but I feel like I should be able to trust my family. I’m closest with my step-sister and say she would be the most like me, but a lot of the things she hasn’t done are just because she hasn’t had the opportunity, not because she wouldn’t. I’ve been at odds with my sister ever since we moved into this house. I hope things get better because for a while we were getting closer and more open with each other. Still, she acts like my mom a lot so I don’t think I could tell her everything. I love my step-brother, but he’s into I lot of stuff I’m not a fan of. When we hang out he acts a little different, better I guess, but I’m not naive. My little brother, he’s probably the worst off. He has potential, but I’m not sure if his seriousness about living up to it outweighs his temptations or his constant attempts to fit in and be cool. Sometimes I wish I could tell him anything because we do have some special bond. We grew up together as best friends. I miss that. I wish he could tell me anything, but I also know I would hate hearing all the bad stuff. I know he wouldn’t tell my secrets though, he would be understanding.

I grew up with all my cousins too. We were all around the same age and mostly lived in the same school district. We were quite the gang. I miss just getting to play with them and everything was innocent. Now more of them are going downhill than up. I just wish I could be there for them, and they would make the right decisions. Maybe I’ll be happier when we all get to be adults and they figure out their lives. I don’t have it all figured out, but at least I know where I stand.

I feel like they are having a hard time trying to find themselves or something. Meanwhile I’m content and for the most part have it together, but I’m always anchored by them. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know what I’m not doing. I’m not struggling, I’m just moving forward. I think I could benefit from going out on my own, but it’s not like I would really have the courage to do it. I couldn’t leave my family.

I need to stop having expectations and getting disappointed. I just want to set the bar as low as possible and then be pleasantly surprised even if it is actually pathetic.

A lot of the time I wish people cared more, or at least that I cared less. 

I started to get scared when my grandpa got sick. I didn’t have to worry before that, but now I’m always fearful I’m going to lose someone I love. I’ve never really had to deal with death. And I’m thankful for that, but it’s inevitable, so I’m dreading when I finally have to experience it.

I don’t remember how old I was, but when my neighbor, one of my best friends, watched his mom die of cancer I didn’t understand how I never saw him cry. I guess he must have, but I never saw it. It seemed like he just kept going like nothing happened. It wasn’t really a surprise, but she had been through remission. When it came back, it came back faster and stronger. She didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t know how to react. He just seemed so stoic.

I’ve never seen a dead body. A dead person. At the wake I didn’t want to go up and see, my mom preferred I didn’t anyway, I was too young. She didn’t want me to see the neighbor, the artist, the mother that laid there so still.

I tried to talk to my friend, but the best I could come up with was a lame joke about how we were missing school. My mom and my older sister both scolded me.

At the funeral we didn’t stay long. My stomach began hurting and when I complained my mom assumed the whole thing was too much for me. I was glad we escaped. I don’t know if it really was overwhelming or I was just uncomfortable and felt awkard. I don’t know, I was too young.

Since then I’ve thought about death, that I would rather die than have a loved one die before me. If my mom died, I’ve often imagined dying myself, emotionally at least. I think I would shut down. I would become mute and unresponsive. I would deny it. I wouldn’t want to have to be strong for other people. I would want to be selfish and just get lost within myself.

I don’t imagine fearing my own death. I guess it might be different if I were actually facing it in the moment, but at this point I accept death, even though it is such a mystery. Even if it hurt, I know it would only be temporary. I know it couldn’t really be worse than life, just becoming nothing, or moving onto some other life. If there is a heaven or hell, heaven would be alright, and if I end up in hell then everyone else is even more screwed than me.

Some nights I lay awake thinking about people dying. I cry the most those nights I think. I’m scared those nights, not of the dark, not of nightmares, but of what I know is coming. Death is always coming. And it scares me.

One of the worst days of my life was when I began losing faith in humanity. I had been denying that the innocence of my childhood was lost forever, and battling the truth that I would miss it for the rest of my life.

It was the day when I discovered pot in my brother’s bedroom. I had had my suspicions, hearing things around school and knowing the crowd he had become a part of. But I never had an evidence that would break the ignorant hope I had that he would never do anything like that. I literally had no idea what to do with this earth shattering find, so I called my step sister. She told me to tell my parents so I did. At first it seemed like they were going to do something about it. Looking back now it seems like there was nothing they could ever do.

That night my mom confronted my brother when we were picking him up from a friends house. He didn’t deny it. Instead my mom admitted she smoked pot in college instead of drinking because alcoholism runs in the family and peer pressure forced her to choose at least one. Before that she seemed perfect to me, someone I could strive to be like. I realized she was flawed too, she was weak too, I was actually stronger than the woman I thought was invincible. They were both too weak to say no to their “friends”.

After my brother went to bed I broke down. I cried harder and longer than I had in a long while. He was my baby brother. He was who I should have been watching out for, caring for, and guiding. But my mom failed too. I sat and talked with my mom, letting her see me cry for the first time in years. I hate when people see me cry. I don’t want to be vulnerable. I don’t want to be weak.

I told her how my friends drank and I didn’t understand it. I cried. I told her how I don’t get why it is so hard for people to do the right thing. I cried. I told her for me, I just have to say no and that’s the end of it. I cried. I told her how I was so confused why I can’t just be like a normal teenager. I cried until there were no tears left.

Since then I’ve just grown to hate the world more and more. It’s unforgiving, it’s pointless, and it’s no good. I’ve been disappointed over and over. At this point I just ignore things, I pretend like they aren’t real. How could these horrible things possibly be real? I’m working towards nothing because there is nothing to look forward to in the end.

But I go on. I distract myself with little happy things. I don’t think I’m capable of being depressed. Only temporarily sad. Then I find bliss in my renewed ignorance, even if only for a moment.

I’ve decided I want to be more open. I’ve been hiding almost everything for as long as I can remember. I don’t care anymore. My best friend has taught me to trust people, I think that is one of the greatest things she has done for me. I appreciate it, so I am going to try being honest, I am going to try to let people in more.

I haven’t written in a while. I haven’t had anything to say for a while.

If my sister doesn’t buy a house, I want to move back to New Jersey.

Senior year was one of the best, if not THE best, years of my life. I spent as much time as I could with the best group of people, and even that wasn’t enough. Doing nothing with my friends was still such a happy time because they are such genuine people that I’ve really let get to me. A year ago I didn’t really trust ANYONE with my personal business. Now I have multiple people I would trust with anything, and that is one of the greatest feelings in the world. These people are across the country, yet they still can make me smile, laugh, and miss them crazy. I like to think that you are stuck with the family you are born into (luckily mine is amazing too), but friends are the family you get to pick, and these people really are like family for me. I can’t wait to be back with them because they are amazing and they are what I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving. I just hope a month doesn’t fly by because I know next summer will be a blast too, but every time I see my friends it’s “bitter sweet” because I know I will have to say bye again.