Friday, October 5th, 2003
This is a story of pain, anger, romance, hatred, growth, and any other thing a typical human being can feel. It’s my story…a peek into my life and a peek into my heart. On the outside I may appear to be an average misunderstood teenage boy. I could give off the impression of a druggie, a sex addict, a teenage drunk, a thief, a vandal, or even a music pirate. Or if you’d like I could be a jock, a prep, an emo, a gothic, or even a nerd. I could be anything to you’d want me to be. But on the inside I am suffering and trying to find myself. I’m not sure why but my therapist says that I’m worth something and all I have to do is find that certain person who see’s that. Honestly, as she goes on about that during our sessions I think “Is she paid to say this to me?”
My dad gets angry at me a lot because I fight with him about going to therapy. He try’s so hard to make me “normal” so to speak. But the honest truth is that he isn’t even normal himself. Every night before I go to bed I hear him talking to himself in his room as if someone special or important to him were there. As I listen, I wonder if he’s talking to god or if he’s talking just talking to himself because he’s lonely. But that’s not exactly the point is it? What I’m trying to say is that he is just as un-normal as I am. I don’t exactly understand what my dad’s definition of normal is but I wish he could just accept me the way I am. Although sometimes I do feel sorry for the man I guess it easy having a son that barely talks and when he does something awkward comes out like “Dad, I want chocolate so I can feel happiness in my stomach.”
So I bet you’re probably asking yourself where I’m going at with all this. That my friends is what you’re going to be asking a lot. I am not here to impress you I am simply here to be writing down my thoughts, feelings, my outlook on life, and my story. I will be using different names even my own name will not be revealed. My friends thank you for taking your time to read this even though I don’t know you I am still very grateful. I want you to live your life in a happy manner and I also want you to realize that you are most likely worth something. You’re probably wondering “Why is he saying this he doesn’t even know me?”
I say this because I know most people out there are worth something whether they believe it or not is there decision.
I am very nervous for tomorrow. I am having a friend over my dad insisted on inviting. I’m way nervous because I have the biggest crush on him. I barely know him we just got paired up in partners for French but as we’ve hung around more with each other it seems like we can at least call each other friends. Well he does most of the talking…in the matter of fact I barely talk at all….like normal. He just goes on about his life and frustrations. I listen to every single word he says and I “mmm” at the appropriate times so he knows I’m not being an insensitive jerk. He has a very interesting and secret life that no one really knows about. I think I’m the only person he tells everything to just because I listen and I’m not the type to judge. It feels good that I can help someone out like that. Just a lot of the times I don’t know what to say and it makes me feel awkward when he wants some advice. Sometimes I just say “It’s your life, it’s simply up to you” that seems to make him happy. But quite often I find myself disagreeing with his actions. Like taking drugs to forget all of his stress….is it just me or does that sound a bit selfish to you? We all go through hard times and we all deal with our thoughts and feelings. Why should we take drugs to forget all of them? Don’t our thoughts and feelings make us who we really are? Sometimes I just want to say that to him but I’m deeply afraid of loosing a friend. I may not act like it but when a person shows love or affection to me I just simply attach myself on to them without meaning to. It’s hard to tell since I don’t really talk or make physical contact. But its there…if a friend were to tell me that they didn’t want to be my friend any more for any reason I would probably nod my head and then later cry my eyes out in my room. That’s the way things normally work. Tears are fairly easy to hold back. But when so much emotion builds, things just tend to spill. One time I got so upset over a little crush in middle school, I cried so hard I think I passed out from dehydration.
Eek! I’m so sorry I’m just blabbing on about things again….I’m probably leaving you with questions aren’t I? Well to start I do like a boy and yes I’m another boy. I do also like girls….I don’t exactly see a person for their gender but more for their personality. If I put a sexual label on myself it’d be bi. But putting a label on myself doesn’t really make me feel human. I just love whom I want and be who I please. That’s my philosophy in life. My friends I want you to make your own philosophy…..
Yours truly/ Jori
Sunday, October 7th, 2003 5:43 P.M
My therapist says you feel different things at different times of the day. So I decided to start putting the time on these things. To be honest I’m not sure how I feel right now I’m just a bundle of different emotions. People always make fun of the awkward teenagers that write in journals and blogs just because it seems like they’re whining about life. The reason why I’m deciding to make this journal so private is because of that reason. If I happen to loose this journal then I don’t want the person to know who I am. I don’t want to bother people with my “whiney” teenage life. But on the other hand I do want someone to find this so they can learn from me. The one last thing I want before I die is to have someone or something out there that I made an impact on. A HUGE impact I’m not talking charity or service impact (don’t get me wrong those are great things). I’m talking about me saving another person’s life and making them feel worth something, for I wish I had someone to make me feel that way. I’m sorry it doesn’t matter any ways. I’m sure if one of my posterity or some random person in a billion years from now finds this I’m sure it will be just trash to them. I will only be some dead guy that doesn’t matter any more. Wow I think too much. I’m very sorry…..
Any ways back to my original train of thought. Well yesterday was extremely awkward, I was so mad at myself I didn’t feel like writing anything down. I think if I did it would have been about inflicting pain on myself and I’m sure no one wants to read about that. So I waited until my mind was stable again.
Damien was over yesterday and my anger just got the better of me, I truly thought he was better then this. He was talking about how he and his girlfriend had sex in his parent’s car and he was so drunk he hardly remembered any of it. I clenched my fists and tried so hard to hold my tongue.
“She has great tits but she needs to loose some weight, it was kind of disgusting feeling all that flab.” He said taking small sips of his soda.
“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? I mean women worry enough about there bodies any ways. Doesn’t the personality count to you at all?” I replied.
“Hmm well she’s not hearing what I’m saying so why does it matter?” he shrugged.
“It matters to me…..I don’t like you talking about any one like that, especially a girl who deserves more respect then that.”
“She spreads like peanut butter she doesn’t deserve respect at all.”
“You realize that’s your girlfriend you’re talking about right?” I said trying really hard to not punch him square in the mouth.
“I’m dumping her soon any ways…I’ve realized she’s not worth my time. What’s gotten into you any ways you’ve never really spoken to me like this?” He asked his big blue eyes staring into my grey one’s innocently.
“Normally I don’t pry into people’s lives. But when I see someone hurting or insulting someone else I will take action,” I punched him square in the face “She may spread like peanut butter but you are probably at her level too buddy.”
“You’re a ******** homo you know that?!” he yelled and started to fight back.
I couldn’t remember what happened after that. All I remember is waking up to my dad opening my bedroom door to check up on me. He had to explain how he was disappointed in the two of us for fighting like that. He told me Damien came and told him he knocked me out. My dad just laid me down on the bed and sent Damien home without another word exchanged. On his way out Damien expressed how sorry he was and how much I was right. He also said he wanted to come back if I’d accept his friendship again. You know what friends? I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Forgiveness is extremely hard after what just happened.
Yours truly/ Jori
Monday, October 8th, 2003 10:38 P.M
I am terribly sorry I got to you so late I am so stressed out with homework words can’t even begin to describe. But the good news is I got most of it done. I fought with my dad about going to therapy again today. I’ve never really seen my dad this angry before, he actually raised his voice and got violent with me.
“If you don’t get in the damn car I swear I will kick you to China! I pay for these ******** things because I care about you!”
Those words really hurt my friends. After I got into the car I started bawling, my dad told me to suck it up and be a man but that just made it worse. I think he felt bad about the situation because he patted my back and told me everything was going to be ok. To be honest I hate crying, I hate everything about it. I get headaches, my nose runs, and people seem to pity you when it happens. But after a good crying session things seem to be a bit better. I remember a stage in my life when I’d think about my mother a lot and why she left. I would go in the shower, turn the water completely too cold, and just cry. The water dripping on my body feels like someone is crying along with me. To me that’s a pretty big comfort because well I guess misery loves it company.
Well therapy was pretty interesting today. I’m not sure if I regretted going or not, I mean she seemed like she actually cared about me this time. Whenever I go see her I feel like she’s just being paid to listen to me. So I barely answer back when she asks questions just because I’m a b*****d like that.
“Jori, what’s wrong?” she asked noticing my puffy eyes and my stuffy nose.
“Just crying,” I shrugged.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.” I answered sitting in the “special seat” next to her.
“Fine, but I’m here to talk you know.”
“Oh trust me I know what you’re here for,” I snapped.
“Jori, you seem so distant from me. I want to know why you act the way you do when you come here.” I could hear the pen start to jot down on her notebook.
I stayed silent.
“Jori, I’m not stupid I know you think that I’m just listening to you because I get paid for it. Well yes I may get paid but I also really do care about you. Whether you believe it or not you’re a good kid. I’ve never had a patient quite like you.” She touched my arm gently and I just looked up at her.
“I’ve told you before that I’m nothing special,” I move my arm away.
“Why do you think that?” she glared preparing to take notes to what I was going to say.
“I’m not answering such stupid questions, I don’t even want to be here,” I mumble and look to the corner of the room.
“Fine, how about we move onto a different subject?”
“Fine….” I answer back staring into her chocolate brown eyes.
“You know it’s close to Halloween right?” her mouth curved into a friendly smile
“What about it?”
“Well what did you dress up as a child? What are the things you remember?”
I think for a moment debating if I want to answer those questions. Half of me wanted to ******** with her mind and tell her something completely fake and disturbing about my past. But the other half wanted me to tell her about how much fun I had as a child with my mom baking Halloween cookies and dressing up as a care bear.
“Hmm well back when my mom was still with us her and I every year would make Halloween sugar cookies and to keep me warm during trick-or-treating she’d make me wear this furry care bear costume,” I shut my eyes, lean back in the chair, and faintly remember the smell of sugar cookie dough and candy.
“That sounds very fun. It seems like you had a good child hood with your mom. Do you remember your last Halloween with her?” she asked her pen moving swiftly across the paper.
I think for a moment, my mouth getting dry and my mind moving at fast speed. “I do…” I faintly say. She looked up from her notes and pursed her lips together “Go on…” she pushed.
“I didn’t understand it as a child but my mom was completely drunk and too unstable to take me out trick-or-treating. I remember begging her because I had the most awesome costume, but she just shooed me away. In the bottle that she was drinking I thought it was just apple juice but it was something far different. I remember feeling really down that night and lonely. I watched the other trick-or-treaters outside my window with their parents and wishing that I could just join them.” I explain looking down as I spoke.
“And your dad?” she asked
“He was working that night….he was completely oblivious to her alcohol problem because he worked so much. I think one of the reasons why she left was because my dad worked all the time and didn’t pay much attention to her.” I answered wondering why I was telling her all this.
“And how do you feel about that?”
I rolled my eyes at the typical psychology question. “I feel like ******** flying,” I answered back sarcastically.
She gave me a dirty look and jotted down more notes on her paper. She looked through the pile of papers she had in her lap and took out a picture of my mother. My mouth slightly dropped open and then I snapped it shut again. Her eyes went from the picture to me.
“You look a lot like her…kind of unusual for a boy.”
“I’ve heard that before,” I reply back folding my arms across my chest.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing did I? You’re a very attractive young man I bet you have the ladies all over you.”
I snort at her comment “Oh yes let me tell you I’m a natural Don Juan.”
“You have her grey eyes, her nose, her face shape, her dark hair, and pale skin. The only thing I think you got from your dad is your tall and skinny gene.” She examined the picture and looked at my face countless times.
“If you don’t mind I really don’t want to discuss my looks,” I mumbled.
“Fine, we’re out of time any ways,” she replied.
My therapist just simply makes me mad there is just something about her that makes me want to b***h slap her. But at the same time it feels good talking to her even if she is paid to do it.
Yours truly/ Jori
Wednesday, October 10th, 2003 3:30 P.M
School just let out and I am writing to you on the bus. It’s a long ways home so I guess you have to deal with my random jabbers. I just talked to Damien for the first time since Saturday and he seemed really sincere in his apology so I’ve decided to forgive him even though my trust in him is completely gone. But what I hate the most is that I still find myself attracted to him. I’m trying my hardest to hide it and I think its working. No one in the school knows about me. In the matter of fact I want to keep it that way, I’m pretty much invisible among my peers. I think when people here the name “Jori Hyzner” they think about the shy quiet kid that doesn’t say much unless people talk to him first. As for friends I think the only person I can consider a friend is Damien. But he goes with his own group of friends during lunch. He’s invited me to sit with them before but I don’t want to intrude, besides, I wouldn’t know what to say any ways.
Right now I have an extremely cute girl sitting next to me. But she’s only next to me because her friends are sitting near by and there was really no where else to sit when she got on. I’m hoping that she will say something to me just because I’ve always wanted a girlfriend to confide in. It seems girls are the only people who can really understand me. Don’t get me wrong, I like guy friends too. But girls don’t call me gay when I’m telling them how I feel.
I remember I had a best girlfriend whom I was inseparable with. Our parents had difficulty splitting us up. I remember her saying “Let me stay with Jori just for a little while longer.”
We’d play with Barbie’s and monster trucks. I also remember going on many adventures with her. She was my first child hood crush and my first kiss. We talked about anything and everything mainly because we were both mature for our age. I always figured because our parents were always fighting and I guess we could relate in that way pretty well. I distinctly remember one of our last conversations.
“Jori, you are my best friend I can honestly say that you’re like a girl only in a boy’s body.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked
“Well most of the boys I talk to at school all seem to be into power rangers and you know just boy stuff. But you will play Barbie’s with me and well you just don’t seem to act like a boy.”
I remember thinking how abnormal I was after she said that. But you know what? I hate the gender roles in society it makes me feel like I have to be a certain way because of my gender. I guess you can say that I get in touch with my feminine side but that doesn’t mean I like boys (at least not all the way) and it doesn’t mean I like to go shopping for tight girl jeans and wear make up either. It just simply means I think differently then what society wants me to be. I ask is there anything wrong with that? Should gender really define who you are?
Yours truly/ Jori
Friday, October 12th, 2003 11:00 P.M
My heart and mind is racing terribly quick right now. I am unsure how to make out what just happened but I will try to explain the best I can. Right now I feel as if I could die happy let’s just put it that way. Damien asked if he could stay at my house, he just randomly showed up at the door step. It seemed as if he was drunk or high but I didn’t care he’s a friend in need. I asked him what the occasion was and he said he just had no other place to go. It made me really sad because none of his other friends would take him in but me. But that’s not exactly what I’m getting at, him and I talked for a while before he fell asleep. It was magical….I know that sounds so weird coming from me but if I could re-live what just happened I would do it in a heart beat.
“Thanks for everything…I think I treat you like s**t a lot,” he sighed closing his eyes and laying down on my bed
“Its ok I’m just glad that I have some sort of friend,” I reply placing a blanket on his body.
“No really you deserve much more then I give you. You are the first friend that I’ve had that actually listens to me. The others just goof off and get me into trouble, I’m sick of it.”
“Don’t stress over it….that’s what I’m here for,” I say comfortingly scooting closer to him.
“Jori?”
“Hmmm?” I reply
“Why are you so quiet? Whenever you speak it makes me feel….I dunno like I want to hear more,” he whispered.
“I just feel like I have nothing important to say. My life isn’t exactly exciting,” I reply awkwardly.
“I think you have plenty to say….you listen to me. Its only fair if I listen to you, am I right?”
“Thank you Damien,” I say softly
“For what?” he snorted.
“For taking the time to be my friend, I know I’m not the most exciting person but I do appreciate it.”
“Jori…can you keep a secret?” he said with a slight nervous tone.
“You know I can.”
“I think I’m attracted to boys. But I’m not sure, I mean I like girls and all but lately I’ve wanted to experiment a lot….I dunno what’s come over me but whatever it is I don’t like it.”
“Don’t put a sexual label on yourself just love whoever you want. Gender of the person shouldn’t stop you from doing so,” I reply shifting uncomfortably next to him.
“Are you attracted to boys too Jori?” he asked.
“No, I’m attracted to people.”
“Why don’t you speak? You can show people how pretty cool you are. I’ve never met any one quite like you.”
“I get that a lot….”
He lifted himself up and placed his face really close to mine. I felt my heart beating at 100 miles per hour. We made eye contact for a bit and just smiled at each other.
“Can I kiss you Jori?” he asked politely.
I nodded and the next thing I knew I felt his lips against mine. I gasped and kissed back unsure what to do because this had been my first time kissing someone in a long time. I was nervous and I was hoping it wasn’t that obvious that I was fairly new at it. He stopped and looked at me.
“You’re not used to this huh?”
I blushed and nodded, I felt like a complete idiot “…I’m sorry” was the only thing I could manage to say.
“It’s ok I kind of expected you’ve never done it before since you’re so shy. Just relax and let me take over,” he grabbed my hands and went for another kiss.
I did as he told me and just relaxed. He said I wasn’t bad for my first time making out. But he made me swear I wouldn’t tell any one…which I wont because I respect him a lot. I wonder if we are considered together now. Or perhaps I’m just here to be experimented with, either way I don’t care. I just want Damien in my life even if it does mean that I will get hurt.
Yours truly/ Jori
Friday, October19th, 2003 8:09 P.M
It’s been a week since I’ve written in this. My therapist isn’t going to be happy (she checks and see’s how many of them I have). She expects me to write in it daily but skipping them here and there shouldn’t be bad, I think she’ll forgive me. But I’ve been just too lazy to write it in it to be honest. I’ll look over and say “eh maybe tomorrow” which is kind of a bad habit to get into. I’ve been wasting my life away doing unproductive things feeling sorry for myself which is also a bad habit to get into. Ever since I was small I’ve been told “you can’t” by many different people. You know what? That affects a person in many different ways. Whenever I get into a hobby or an interest I just give up on it because I know there’s someone out there better then me at it. So what’s the point? But then I came to the realization that you can do things just for fun because you like it not because you want to impress the world with it. I’m not even sure if I have a talent that I can impress people with. People say that everyone is born with a natural talent but to be honest I don’t think I have one. Could that be considered a talent? I guess there are those useless people who are easily impressed because they don’t have anything to show off with. I guess that contributes to the world in a way. So I’ve decided that journal writing is productive. I guess one can have a beautiful mind, my therapist tells me my mind is unique and beautiful all the time. I have yet to believe her. One day I’ll probably show someone really special to me this journal. And I mean REALLY special, I have to be madly in love with them and ready to marry. After all I’m talking to an imaginary person that doesn’t exist just to express my feelings. To be honest it’s kind of pathetic. But if they really love me they’ll understand. Right now my life is just difficult, I’m extremely depressed and I’m just waiting for that one moment with that one person or with that one thing to make me happy and shine again. I just want to know what my destiny is on this planet. Why the hell am I here? What use am I to this dinky hell hole we call earth? I don’t want to waste air, I don’t want to add to the waste to our planet, I don’t want to waste food or water. I want to feel like I’m making a difference and that I’m contributing. People tell me that suicide isn’t that answer that it’s selfish. People say to never give up and just keep living life.
But how is it selfish when you’re not doing anything to help the earth. Wouldn’t you be doing the world a favor?
Yours truly/ Jori
[love potion] Community Member 
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