I took the maximum number of laxitive suggested. I feel sick. My stomach feels hot and i feel clamy and like i could puke. 

I gained four pounds this week from being bloated and on my period and not being again to handle my cravings.

All i eat when i do eat is total crap. Junk. Chocolate. Hot dogs (because thats the only food we have in the house). Cheese. 

Thats basically it. But this week i added doughnut holes and mac and cheese because my cramps were so bad i couldnt walk and i woke up at 2am.

I might be subconsciously avoiding my therapist. 

Its scary thinking about working on this. About changing my habits. Yeah i dont like my current methods but its all i have. Its all ive ever had really. And i dont know how to change or get better or what it looks like or if i even can.

And chole and her boyfriend just think im the stereotypical angsty teen whos angry for no reason. He isnt even a part of this family and he gets to quip in with the sardonic comments about how i “look too happy”

I dont know. Its one thing for them to not protect me from each other, but letting an outsider in on it… 

it just doesn’t help anything. It just makes me feel even more of the misfit than i normally do. I know i have a lot of myself to blame for that but he hasn’t even been around a year and its like im the one who should be the stranger in my own house. At Christmas and still today. He fits better than me. 

Ive been secretly hoping maybe i get an ulcer or something. Something to force me to work on my problems for real. But i dont know. 

It gets lonely. I love writing but talking into this virtual notebook gets lonely sometimes. Like right now. I feel like a deflated balloon most of the time.

Papa.

Can we ever truly move on? Is living on in memory the same as living?

I went to see my Papa’s grave today. I wondered if seeing the place he lays now and has laid for nearly 16 years would make it feel more real. Ever since i was little it has felt as though he would walk through the front door at any moment, finally back from some long vacation with arms wide open ready to pick me up and twirl me around.

I have no memories of him. He was gone two months after i turned 2.

I have photos of him, arms around me and loving eyes looking on me. But no real memory of him lives on in my mind. My whole life everyone has spoken of him. As if he was still here, as if he was never really gone. My grandma speaks of him with fondess and regret. Regret of the time with him wasted, regret for the place our family is in now, regret for how soon he was taken. She speaks of his integrity, his accomplishment, his love, his selflessness, and his good hugs. My father speaks of his shortcomings. The flaws that made him human. He talks about how he worked constantly, rarely saw him or seemed to take interest in him. He talks of how he felt unloved by him.

My uncle speaks of his accomplishment. How he revolutionized the supermarket business, turned a failing company into a fourtune 500 in the 11 years he worked as President.

My sister wonders if it was a secret blessing how he was taken so soon. She questions how well he would have handled his grandchildren straying from the church, how he may have handled us growing into our persons; me relatively immodest, Emily divorced and not looking to remarry, Chloe refusing to go to school.

I wonder what he was like. I wonder who he was, really. In his head, how did he see himself? What inner demons did he wrestle with? Would he have been as resistent to change as Emily feels he would be? Would he have been most fond of me? Or would i have been one of the most disappointing if he knew the way I thought of things; of religion, of modesty, of politics. I wonder how much more tempered my Grandma would be if he were here. I wonder if he would be able to to soften her victim complex and her narcissistic tendancies. I wonder. I wonder. I wonder.

It feels as though ive searched for him most of my life. Ive looked for parts of him in me. I have his eyes apprently. Im sure there are traits of his that live on in me. But i dont know for sure which they are.

True to form, we had to look for his grave. We had to wander and look over and over for it. I picked up fallen pots of flowers and placed them gently back upright as i found them. Finally we went to the front office to ask for where he was. And then we drove back to a place we had already looked and had to search around again.

And we found him. And i stood over his plaque and our family named spelled out in large letters on the bronze plate and looked at his name written above in smaller script.

James

1938-2001

A man with integrity who walked humbly with his God.

I looked at it. I read it. I took my shoes off and felt the grass above him between my toes as the breeze picked up and touseled my hair and picked up little leaves and sent them twilring through the air. I sat gently down above him as the clouds moved over and away from the sun with the breeze.

The ground had never felt so sturdy or so firm under me. I picked at the blades of grass and left some pieces of my hair beside the plaque. I imagined the breeze was his arms wrapped around me, hands messing up my hair playfully. I pictured him with me, soft, wrinkled hands on mine. I kissed my fingered and placed them gently on his grave.

“Hi, Papa.”

I murmed quietly. Grammy walked back over and i stood up slowly and put my shoes back on. We walked slowly back toward the car and i wrapped my arm around her waist and she wrapped hers around mine.

“I’m sorry you didnt get to know him, Naomi. And i just hate thinking about all the wasted time.” I leaned my head against hers and kissed her cheek.

I walked around the car and the wind blew gently by again and carried the words “Bye Papa,” gently from my lips before i got in. Grammy was looking at an old photo of me and telling me how she sent it to her sister and was telling her how well i could dress myself.


How quickly time moves forward.

Papa is gone. I dont know if it will ever feel real to me. If he will ever feel real to me. I wonder if he can ever truly be gone until his myth is laid to rest too. I wonder. I wonder. I wonder.

I didnt get to meet you papa. But my heartĀ sings for you. My one wish in life is to have met you. I dont know if there will ever be a day i can stop searching for you.

journal entry # who knows

i feel like i don’t fit here. at the dinner table, in this house. There’s a place set for me, a room upstairs for me but it doesn’t feel like I fit here.

sometimes i don’t even feel like i fit with Emily. sometimes I don’t feel like I fit anywhere. and it just hurts. the holidays opens up such a big gap in me. one that i can usually stuff full of other things and people. but you’re supposed to be with your family during the holidays, so i can’t escape it. i can’t just hide from it. even though these people really don’t feel like my family.

i felt like some kind of caged animal tonight.

“gather round, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! it’s the angsty-for-no-reason teen!!! if you can get her to crack her frosty exterior you win 20 tickets!”

i’m not some stupid fucking show.

i’m not just some challenge for you to win and crack.

i’m an actual human having a really hard time finding out how she fits into this “happy family” picture when there are two extra people here.

i’m the odd one out. emily has her boyfriend. chloe has her boyfriend. who do i have now?

it used to be emily but now it’s no one. i have no one.

it’s so small and so stupid but it started with emily not wanting to wrap my presents with me. and we’ve usually done that every year as an excuse to be just ourselves and she didn’t do it this year because “i’m a horrible wrapper!” but i know it was just because she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

and chloe’s boyfriend is constantly at the house. staying the night and taking up space. and he fits better than i do. they both do. how can they both fit better than me when i’ve been here 17 years?? when theyve only both just showed up three months ago??

and what makes it ok for them to think they know whats going on in my head? for chloe’s boyfriend to say “are all teenagers this angry? cuz my brother is too.”

what makes it ok for emily’s boyfriend to insist on getting a photo with me even though i’m clearly not interested? what about doing that is going to make me feel less like the side show attraction who’s apparently just mad and angsty for no reason? who’s apparently just mad because she’s just a teenager? who will supposedly just grow out of this in a few years?

i’m not interested in hearing your stupid sex related jokes that you make because our mom likes them or because you started a dumb competition to make each other blush as much as possible. I’m not interested in watching you be all over each other. i’m not interested in watching strangers get more genuine love, affection, and attention than i ever have in this house. i’m sorry but that just doesn’t sound like a fun thing for me to participate in.

it just hurts. and it sucks feeling like i’m falling back to where i was three years ago. and it sucks feeling like i don’t fit anywhere. it sucks feeling like i don’t have a real family. it sucks coming home to a house that’s so quiet and full of strangers. and it sucks. it just fucking sucks. and i’m so so tired of feeling this way.

i’m tired of having sad christmases. i’m tired of not being happy.

 

The Wrong Puzzle Piece

it feels like someone opened up a puzzle box,

and somehow my piece wandered into this picture.

and now here we are,

smashing and jamming and cramming;

trying so hard to fit me where i can’t.

and everyone tells me “but the picture is so much prettier when you’re in it!”

but i don’t understand how it can be so pretty,

when all it does is hurt.

is christmas over yet? i’d really like for it to be done.

Holidays

I gave myself a whole pep talk this morning that i was going to be happy no matter what because its christmas and for once i wanted to have a good christmas and now were here and it didnt fucking work. Idk what im supposed to do???

Emily and chloe both have guests over. Significant others. And its fucking annoying because it leaves me the odd one out and I guess maybe its karma for when its just me and Emily and Chloe and this is how Chole feels but then why doesnt Emily have a similar thing happening??

I just want to go to my room so that i can cry to get it out of my system and go back down here to fake through it better but i cant because Emily will follow and confront me to see whats wrong because i know shes noticing but i feel so stupid telling her that “i just dont like that you have a boyfriend whos coming over to family events because i feel like im losing you when hes here. He makes you different.”

I hate that her boyfriend is trying so hard and taking pictures with me. I hate that i feel like im on some kind of exhibition. I hate that i cant just shut this out and pretend to be happy to make this easier for everyone else.

I hate that i cant just be fucking happy for once and that these things bother me so much because i really really wish it didnt. I wish that i didnt feel shitty because im the one at xmas without my own person. I hate that i feel like crying on christmas.

Fuck this.