____So far this year, I believe I've lost quite a few friends. Losing friends is unfortunate, sure, but... Perhaps it's necessary. I need friends that aren't going to try to force to mature and improve me, I need to develop and learn in that manner on my own. Trial and error, embarrassment, punishment, fights, losing hope, and losing friends... You mature from things like that, not from a girl sitting next to you demanding to know how you got a high B on that science test and why there's smudged ink on your hands that appears to have previously been the polyatomic ions. You need to learn not to cheat on your own, I suppose. Help with it is good, I guess, but rude demands and condescending remarks are just heartbreaking.
____And then there's the even worse type of friend: the suicidal, drunk, attention-seeking friend. She has a good life, maybe not as good as mine, but good. One of 100 people national to receive a college grant in a writing contest (when she was only in the 6th grade, mind you!), a really nice house, a mother who loves her and provides for her, she's got it made, but she's still got the suicide hotline on speed dial.
____And then, from another friend who happens to be friends with the suicidal friend as well informs you that, at age of 11 or 12, she got drunk. "To forget the pain" or some crap like that.. Getting into your mother's wine collection while she's at work is not my first choice on list of ways to forget the pain. You have friends for a reason: to keep you sane. They love(d?) her, believe it or not, but she couldn't trust you with her secrets, despite the fact that they've spilled their deepest secrets to her and they care(d?) about her more than she could possibly have imagined...
____Do those (fairly) innocent people deserve that stress? The stress that she put on their backs? The fear that she provoked in them? The fear that they' wake up one morning, only to discover that she OD'ed on her diabetes medication, or that she cut herself and bled to death lying in the shower? That she hung herself, or that she jumped off a bridge? Why do they deserve that burden when all they did was care for and love her. All along, all they wanted was the best for her. Their intentions for her were nothing but good, and every time that they recommended she see a therapist or something, it was for her best interests, not theirs.. Why do they deserve to have the weight of this depressed, attention-seeking girl on their backs?
____So they confront her, more than once, maybe one of her friends even tells her that she can't be friends with her anymore until she talks to someone; a therapist, her mom, the school counselor, a teacher, maybe even the friend? But she can't even do that. But she's forgiven each time... But her and the friends, they grow apart and, without any more words exchanged, they lose each other. And say the friends are sad, but they don't mourn the loss a great deal... Are they bad people? Will this cause her to finally go over the edge?... They discuss her with each other behind her back, and they complain about her, cry over her, express their anger towards her, say what they couldn't say to her face... This surely makes them bad people, right?
____Some questions for you, the reader: are the friends bad people for leaving her? Are they bad people for expressing their feelings to each other, without her knowledge, rather than to her face? Have you ever been in a similar predicament? If so, how did you handle it? Did you handle it at all?
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____I have a confession: I am a liar. I'm a good liar, a frequent liar, and an exaggerated liar... Like, so maybe a friend has this really interesting story, and I want to... impress people, maybe? I don't know, but I'll make up an exciting story, too. Maybe to try to top theirs? My reasons are unknown, even to me... And then there's the hidden stuff, like, I wouldn't even want my mom and dad to know that I'm a member of an online writing community, an online webcomic community, an online roleplaying community, an online musician's community, and definitely not myspace... If they ever found out that I had a myspace, they would probably ban me to my room for life... So, if they even suspect it, I'll lie instantly, without thought.
____Most of the time I lie on impulse. It's a spur of the moment thing, really. I want to make myself seem more interesting than I actually am, so, I lie. If I got caught in a lie, I'll lie my way out of the lie, and if I got caught in that lie, I'll lie my way out of the lie, and so on so forth. I hate myself for it... Back in my rarely spoken-of past of mild drugs, smoking, suicide attempts, and self-harm, one of the main reasons that I did all that crap was because of how much I hated myself for lying all the time. I hated it so much, and I still do. I can't stand it...
____A tragic fact: I don't even realize I'm lying until after the fact... Sometimes I'll try to get myself out of it with a "ha ha, just kidding!" or a "nah, not really, but, whatever.", but sometimes I won't. Sometimes, I'll just let it be, and wallow in my guilt and hate for myself until it surfaces and I unleash my anger whenever i get an excuse; strangling Emily, stabbing Jacob, stabbing Wesley, punching Lizzie, breaking Connie's thumb, giving Niagara that black eye, whacking Kiki in the stomach with a hockey stick...
____I admit it: I didn't strangle Emily because she taunted me ("Do it, then".), I didn't stab Jacob because of a sibling rivalry taken to far, I didn't stab Wesley because he was hitting me with a trumpet stand, I didn't punch Lizzie because she tied me up in the back of her ice cream truck for an hour, I didn't break Connie's thumb because I just felt the incessant need to bite someone, I didn't give Niagara that black eye because I found out he had been cheating, I didn't whack Kiki with the hockey stick because we were playing street hockey and I wanted the puck... I just wanted to hurt someone. And they gave me excuses.
____I don't really know if there's a God or not. I like to say that I don't believe in God and I like to think that there's not a God... because I don't want to face the fact that, if there is, I'm probably going to Hell. I guess I'm trying to make myself believe there's not a God so that I won't think about how totally screwed over I am., so, I force logic and science onto myself... I can't say that I do believe in God, but I really don't think it's honest to say I'm an Atheist, either... I think that, the only times I felt really at ease with my religion was when I was practicing Wicca and when I just declared that I was a Unitarian or a Unitarian Universalist.
____I like to believe the foundation of Unitarianism: that there's a God, and he's a kind an loving God... and that he loves all of his children equally, and would not send to into "Hell", despite their worldly sins. I think that Unitarianism is the ideal religion... It's accepting, it's loving, it's... everything a person like me would want to believe in... but, as previously stated, I don't know if I believe in God, thus, I don't think that I really qualified as a "good" Unitarian. Unitarian Universalism is the religion for me, I guess.
____Sorry, I got a little carried away... So, yeah, like I said: I'm a liar. That's all there is to it.
____Some questions for you, the reader: What do you have to say about my extremely bad habit? Do you lie much? Do you have a bad habit? If you don't mind sharing, what is it?
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____I recently discovered that I may have a stalker... A serious stalker. None of that middle school crapola joke stalking. I am talking about a real life, creepy, hardcore, pedophile stalker.
____This all started in... September? October?... I don't remember, what I do remember is that my dad brought in the mail, and I had received a letter. At first, I was pretty excited, I mean, everybody likes getting mail, right? Well, yeah, I was happy until I opened it and realized who it was. It was a man... 27 years old, I think... who was one of those assistant teachers who helps mentally challenged kids... He helped this kid in my art class last year, at West, and, you know, we talked a bit. I always had this weird feeling, like my pedophile radar was going off. Thing was, we were both authors, so, we talked about writing and stuff.
____I think it probably started when he began, like, giving me notes. I don't remember exactly what they said, I don't think that they were too creepy, or I would've reported him. I'm not stupid. Well, anyway, he gave me one of his short stories to read. I started reading it, but I never finished it... So, he gave me a second short story, I think it was maybe 4 or 5 pages long... I don't remember. What I do remember is that the person that the main character had a crush on was most obviously based on me... Brown hair, brown eyes, 6th grade (which I was in at the time), and she drew the main character a multi-colored butterfly...
____That was a dead giveaway. During free time in art, I drew this really colorful butterfly, and at the end of the hour, he asked me if he could have it. I was like, "sure." And I gave it to him. It was a few days later that he gave me the second short story.
____I was pretty scared of him, he was kind of a creep, you know? I didn't act on it though, 'cus, I don't know... I didn't have any real proof that he was a pedophile.
____Well, I got this letter and read it, it was pretty creepy... There wasn't, like, any "OMG I LOVE YOU HAVE SEX WITH ME", but, it was creepy. The creepiest part was that he had sent me a letter. I don't recall giving him my address whatsoever. Who knows, maybe I was like "here's my address, you can write me" or something and I'm just paranoid, but... I really don't remember giving him my address. And that scared me. Again, I didn't report him to anyone, 'cus I had no proof... But, the thing that really made me want to vomit was that he had signed the letter "Love, your buddy Colin".
____I, being the smart person I am, wrote him back instead of just ignoring the letter completely. I answered all of his questions, stated a few updates on my life, all that... I was very skeptical to send it. He, as I've stated multiple times, was creepy. He scared me. End of story.
____He sent me a second letter. This time, I shoved it in my drawer and ignored it. I've left it that way until... Either yesterday or the day before, I think, when he messaged my myspace, informing me that he had never gotten a second letter and that he had just, on a whim, decided to search me on myspace... I messaged him back, set up a status message saying that my myspace was "acting up", signed out, and made a different myspace, setting my full name as "Epic Success" this time... I am keeping THIS profile private, and if he somehow finds me... Well, this time, I'll just ignore him.
____But, still, I'm scared... if he somehow found out my address, what lengths would he go to in order to communicate with me? What if he's one of those creepy people that, like, watches you? If he can find out my address, what other stuff can he find out?... I am extremely scared of this entire predicament, but... I still don't have any proof, so I still can't report him. Gah!
____Some questions for you, the reader: What do you think? Do you think that I should report him, despite lack of real, hard evidence? Do you think that I'm just being paranoid? Do you think that he might actually be a stalker? Do you think I'm right to be frightened? Any advice? Anything?!
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xMargië!
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