Books before food (and any sort of comfortable life).
As I was getting ready for a dinner party that I was hosting for my friends the weekend after Christmas, all I could think of was, “God, I really don’t want to do this.” Having to entertain people and be around food that made me feel nauseuos—yeah, I didn’t really want to go there. But I had promised my friends a get-together, and a get-together is what we were going to have (and if I passed out or puked along the way, then toughen-up, that’s too damn bad).
My friends slowly started trickling in almost thirty minutes past the time that they were supposed to show up, and I was getting multiple calls and texts for addresses and directions. (Many calls were also to tell me that I was going to have many no-shows.)
I don’t entertain much.
We gathered in the kitchen, everyone eating straight out of what everything was cooked in
because I was too lazy to serve anyone because that’s what everyone had always felt comfortable doing. After a while, we gravitated towards the too-small dining room table and forced way too many chairs into the breakfast nook, dragging some from other rooms because there weren’t enough.
We told stories. We played card games. We watched a movie. We told more stories.
And I thought I was happy.
Apparently this was not the case. While digging in my pantry for my box of tea bags, my friends kept on talking, unaware that the walls in my house have never been good at hiding even the most silent of whispers. It only took one person to make me realize—
“Is something wrong?”
I don’t know why those three words affected me so much, but they did. Yes, something was wrong. I was surrounded by people, surrounded by my friends, and yet I was still lonely. I don’t know how this is possible—how you can be surrounded by people and still be lonely. And knowing that my friends could see this loneliness, this unhappiness, even when I was smiling and laughing and trying so hard to be happy, it made me sad.
My life for the past year has been… let’s just say, “rough.” Almost exactly a year ago I had to unroll from high school and enroll in an online program because of medical reasons, some stress and nagging-parent related.
It was three months before anyone contacted me wondering where I was at. Three months. Some of my “friends” haven’t spoken to me since I left school, and some of the ones that have spoken to me were so cold towards me it was like we’d never been friends at all. I actually blame my mom for that. While I was busy being a 24/7 sick person, she was going around telling my friends’ parents that I was “refusing” to go to school.
Umm… yes, when I was so sick that my legs gave out, I did refuse to let you make me go to school. Which you were still trying to do. After a few months of this, I basically said, “enough.” I had already missed more school than I had attended the fall semester, and I wasn’t about to repeat that, along with the constant verbal abuse of my parents telling me that I’d never graduate or be anything.
So I was done.
Everything was fine after that, right? Wrong. It was like I had already graduated and my friends had begun disconnecting themselves from me. I had lost everything that really mattered to me, and that isn’t even where it started.
I wasn’t picked for madrigal in choir like I deserved. “You’re a four-year veteran, and we know you’d show up for this because you want it so badly, and you deserve it, but we’re not going to give it to you because your attendance has been a little shaky.”
I wasn’t picked for the lead in the musical like I deserved. “Everyone keeps telling you that you’re going to get it, that you deserve to get it, but we’re not going to give it to you because we already have ‘favorites,’ and even though they don’t fit the part we’re giving it to them anyways.”
I was assistant editor of the newspaper… but then again, I never really was, was I? “You still come at least once a week, we did give you the job, and you are the best at type-editing, but we’re just going to act like you’re not here and keep doing what we’ve always done.”
So now high school is over, and the fact that everything that could have went wrong did makes me unsure of myself. I had my whole life planned out. And now that’s messed up, so all I do is read books, watch TV, and sleep. I’ve got my blog up and running again, but what purpose does that serve? To have one more meaningless thing to do during my day? My life has been ruined. I have friends, but I don’t.
I am unhappy, and I have no clue how to change that.