They’re here, and the whole thing is far, far worse than I thought it could be. For all I like my friends, having them here all of yesterday with the knowledge of many such days stretching into the future just makes me want to cry. I realize this *is* the internet, so I will not say too much, but friends can be tiringly high maintenance. Last night I just wanted to retreat to our nice cozy room and do all our nighttime rituals. I suppose part of having friends is making sacrifices for them… Perhaps this isn’t fair of me, but I really feel like I put way more into relationships than any of my friends. If somebody is upset or troubled, I have stayed up during the night on the day before an exam to be there. I listen to peoples’ problems and sympathize. I act as hostess when I hate doing that – always have, even at home, only now the pressure is much worse because this is MY home, and it is MY responsibility to entertain guests.
As soon as I saw Jess I knew things weren’t going particularly well for her (even for her); for all we have a “completely honest” relationship some things have obviously not been said. I thought about this last night for a time. The thing that kills an honest relationship is hiding things or deceiving your friend. Why would you do that? Here’s an idea: because a) You aren’t brave enough to be completely honest; b) You don’t completely trust your friend in reality; c) You don’t care to tell them for some reason or another; or d) You don’t think they would care or understand. I don’t know which of those apply here, but I have the feeling that it’s a combination. Mostly last night, however, I was feeling that d) was most applicable. After all, how could I understand what somebody who’s unhappy is feeling? Look at my life: oh it’s so great. I’m married, I eat well, I do alright in classes, I’m in college, I’m fairly mentally stable. Why would somebody confide in me when my life is “great” like it is? I don’t have problems: how could I understand if you did? The bottom line is I am so disgustingly boring and normal that I am no good for talking to seriously.
I hate what I’m living right now. I don’t like how I look at all – less than I ever have before. I’m in college, but to what end? I don’t care about it; I don’t care about any of this stuff I’m pretending to do right now. Frankly, I would be perfectly happy just to curl up and sleep all day (only of course now I can’t sleep at night even if I’m exhausted), not do anything. I have to make a point of staying away from sharp objects when I’m alone and make a point of eating regularly. Then when I do eat regularly I feel guilty – why was I eating in the first place? Here it’s Thanksgiving day and the idea of food sounds completely abhorrent to me (apparently it is to Jess too, because she refused to eat anything but Muddy Buddies last night. Great), especially the idea of watching a bunch of guys gorge themselves on meat and potatoes. Mmmm let’s eat until we feel like throwing up, and then wait a while, and then do it some more! What an incredibly stupid holiday. I am willing to bet the majority of the country doesn’t even think of the idea it is Thanks-Giving Day, not just a day to waste a lot of money on food you will shortly be exceedingly tired of. I repeat again: what an incredibly inane and idiotic holiday. I think that I will make a point of refusing to eat today. And tomorrow. And the next day. Maybe some day I will be less normally dull and finally be interesting enough to talk to.
– KF –