Have you ever had a day where you felt out of sorts, or a month where you felt like dying? That’s what I feel now, for a matter of fact, that’s what I feel a lot of the time. However, every time I write something this long, nobody bothers to read the entire thing, I suppose its because they always end up really long, but then again they might just not care.
You see, I have been mixed up emotionally since 2002. November 8th, 2002 to be exact. My dad died that day in a car accident that day. I never got to say goodbye, I never got to see him again. I was barely nine years old at the time and I really didn’t understand. Who really does at that age? All I know is that at 6:56 that morning I woke up feeling sick, I wouldn't find out until later, but that was the exact time my dads truck crashed and he died. Even at the mere age of nine it hit me hard. I guess that’s about the time everything started... the time everything changed...
2002 was my third grade year, one that I remember vividly. I had one true friend at the time, Sarah. We had been friends since kindergarten, we still are friends. Sarah was the one that was there the most for me during that rough November. I think she was the only one that really cared. I remember coming home from my dads funeral and our table was full of food. So was our refrigerator and both freezers. Then, on the dining room table, there was things from my peers. A teddy bear from the staff at Canyon View, and then there were a bunch of letters with drawings from my classmates. At the time it just seemed like they cared, but later down the road I realized that they didn’t really have a choice in the matter. They were just told by Mrs. Williams to write them. When I returned to school it was nothing but constant ridicule, teasing, and “poor Jessica”. People actually thought it was hysterical that my dad had died. I could name so many names right now, but I won’t.
Its been like that my entire life, I have always been the laughing stock or person in the wrong. It seldom seems like I do anything right, especially in the eyes of my family. My mom and I don’t get a long, and when we do it never lasts. My brother, who is now 21, still treats me like a mere child, and the rest of my family is “concerned” about my weight. Heres the thing though, I am sick of hearing it, I know I am overweight, I know its not healthy, but why can’t they mind their own business? More than once I have gone to my room and cried because once again, my own family, was talking about me behind my back. I don’t know why they expect me to be the happy one. Why be happy when I hardly have a thing to be happy about? I am tired of being hated for who I am. I know its better to be hated for who you are than liked for who you’re not, but nobody ever really wants to be hated. People hate me, yet I have never given them a reason to. People I have never even muttered a word to think I am a dork that can’t have fun. They judge off of the words of others, others that haven’t a clue who I am or who I have been, now, does that really make sense to you? I didn’t t think so.
Popularity has got to be one of the most over rated things in this universe. The only thing popularity has become is a contest. Who has the best body, the best clothes, the newest technology. It isn’t based on personality anymore. That’s the sad truth. If you don’t have sex, if you don’t drink, if you don’t hate the police, you cant be popular, at least not in the town I live it. That’s not very fair. The most hysterical thing about it though, is all those “Popular” people, go and stab each other in the back the second the other person turns it. They do this without so much as a blink of an eye. Its not worth it, to me it never will be.
That leaves me one question for myself though… If I loathe that behavior, why do I so often find myself wishing that I fit in better than I do. I guess I wouldn’t say I am the extreme bottom of the food chain, but I am certainly no where near the top. I don’t want to be, yet I do. I want to feel like I belong, I want to feel like someone cares, because most of the time I don’t. I want to be somebody instead of nobody, but I don’t want to change who I already am to get that far, and I wont. If I could have one wish in this world, other than the obvious one of bringing my dad, and my puppy back, it would be that people were less judgmental. Friends don’t seem to be diverse anymore and I cant even begin to fathom why. If people could stop and smell the roses and hear the music of life before it dies, we would live in a wonderful world. I am just so conflicted and I don’t understand why.
Now, to add to my stress and my confusion, my dog, my best friend, dug a hole underneath of our back fence and got hit by a car. I don’t understand why she would want out of the backyard, it is positively huge and she hates cars anyway. She was my baby and I had only had her for four months. I feel guilty about her dying, even though, deep inside of me, I know its not my fault. I knew that there was a hole there though, I knew that she hung out by it a lot, and I knew that she had left the backyard before. Yet I didn’t put the two together, now look what happened. I don’t have my puppy anymore. The puppy I love so much, the dog that I would have given my life for. She didn’t deserve to die. She was only a year and three weeks old, nothing deserves to die that young. This summer she has been my everything. She was such a playful dog, so full of life and love. I am lost without her, I don’t know where to turn or what to do. I feel even more guilty though because I already know that I want another dog, its been less than 48 hours. I feel as though that makes me a bad person? But does it…? Am I really that bad?
I am not even sixteen years of age yet, I wont be for about a month and a half, yet I feel like I have been through so much in my short life. This is the second summer in a row that I have lost a dog, the only difference is that CJ was old and she was suffering, we made the choice to put her down, Honey was just a small little puppy that didn’t deserve to die, especially not the way she did.
I feel as if nothing wants to work out for me. I have a very few friends that I trust. And sometimes I even question that. I guess I am too hard on myself, that’s what they tell me anyway, but face it, I cant get a guy to look at me, let alone like me. I probably never will find someone, especially not in high school. They say I have a long life ahead of me to find all that… but what if I don’t, what if I die tomorrow? Maybe this is my problem, I have too many questions in my head, too many thoughts I need answers to. I have been told more than once by more than one person that I think to much. I wasn’t aware that there was any such thing until that person told me the first time. The truth is, if I couldn’t think, if I couldn’t feel guilty, if I couldn’t play the “what If” game, I would go insane. More insane than I already am that is.
I guess that’s it for now. I just needed to get some stuff off my shoulders without laying my burden on any one specific person. Maybe someone will read this, most likely they wont. No one really cares enough to read something this long written by a crazy girl… I cant say that I blame them. Usually writing helps, but not this time, this time I feel just as bad as when I started out…
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The Thoughts of Jessica
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