Category: Writing

February 3, 1993

October 4, 2017

It didn’t take long but I hate myself again. 

                                             lol. Nice that I can laugh at such statements now.

I don’t want my picture in the yearbook and I’m definitely not going to Grad Ball. I wish I hadn’t put my baby picture in the yearbook. I won’t write my grand blurb and I regret buying the yearbook. I don’t want to go to Cegep next year. I just want to be invisible. I want to die. I hate my life, I hate myself, I hate everything about me. I wish I could escape.

                                     Indeed, I did not go to Grad Ball or to my graduation ceremony. This is a minor example of several events (or non-events) in my life that I’m tempted to regret, but realize I cannot. The truth is, if I had gone to Grad Ball, I would not have enjoyed myself. I had no friends, not because no one liked me, but because I liked no one, least of all myself. At that time in my life I would have been miserable at such an event. It would have only served as another opportunity for me to beat myself up for my shortcomings. I can look back and interpret this so-called missed milestone as a failure, but if I had gone, it would have been an even worse failure because I would have been angry and disappointed with the way I’d interacted (or not interacted) with others.

I can think of many other missed opportunities such as this in my life. Things that might have been, but could not have been, because of who I was at the time they occurred. I often find myself frustrated with where I am in my life, and wish I’d taken action on certain things earlier, as I often feel as though I’m about a decade behind where I should be, or where most people are. A lot of the socializing that most people accomplished in their teens, I did in my twenties. Much of the growing up the typical person does in their twenties, I did in my thirties. Same with my career (both the one I get paid for, and the one I don’t). Yet I cannot blame myself for this slow growth, because I simply didn’t have the capacity to do more earlier, as I was busy working through other struggles. I’m still working through things, as no doubt we all are, and there’s no point in admonishing myself for this. I’m on my own path, no one else’s, and that’s fine. Besides, there are other ways in which I’m ahead of the curve, compared to my peers, so if I’m going to play the “grass is always greener” game, I need to acknowledge how green my own grass is once in a while.

grass-is-greener-bullshit

January 28, 1993

September 25, 2017

It’s Thursday and there’s no school tomorrow, yippee! That’s especially good because I just got my period but really bad ’cause Jacques is coming tomorrow. I hope his plane crashes. Should I feel guilty for saying that? Ahh, who cares!

                        I’ve written about Jacques before and how I hated him but can’t quite figure out why. Just reading his name now, as I was transcribing this, gave me the creeps. What did he do???

I like myself at the moment, I’ll say why but let me begin at the beginning. I’ve been feeling petty stupid because I never signed up to get my grad photo taken and now it’s too late, but I didn’t because at first I didn’t know it was for the yearbook and the teacher (idiot!) forgot to give us the notice papers about all this. So when the time came for grads who somehow missed getting it done to sign up again I was like, I guess I’ll go sign up Friday but Friday school was cancelled due to freezing rain! I guess I might have gone Monday but I was like, why bother, I have no friends anyway, who cares?! Then Wednesday I felt even dumber ’cause in drama we couldn’t go to the auditorium for some reason so we went to the fishbowl and I sat on gum! So I had a big wad of pink gum on my white jeans for the next class and it was really embarrassing ’cause I had to go up to the front of the class to say my speech for public speaking. God, I almost died. But the speech went well enough even though I spoke too fast. Today, this morning, I was feeling disappointed ’cause i didn’t get chosen for the semi-finals and it’s not fair ’cause half the class wasn’t there yesterday so some who might have voted for me didn’t (but I probably wouldn’t have gotten enough votes anyway, with my touchy subject [does God exist?]. It’s just as well not so many people were there so they didn’t see my bubblegum ass!) So anyway, as I said I got my period so I was having major cramps in my classes before drama and when drama came around I was praying to Q I wouldn’t have to say my story. I went to the bathroom and before I went into the auditorium and crouched down into the hall and cried, that’s how bad I felt. So I was all uncomfortable in the class and then Mr. Whitmore goes: Nicole, you’re next! So I’m like, oh shit! But I went up there and my cramps subsided and I said my  Echo and Narcissus story. I mixed up some lines sometimes but no one noticed (except Jane of course, who I practiced on). Everyone really liked it! Especially Mr. Whitmore who said it got a 95%. He also said I would have made a good Helene in Midsummer Night’s Dream (the play he was gonna do but didn’t). So I’m pissed that I didn’t gt the chance to be Helena in a school play but I’m still feeling pretty good from that uplifting compliment. Sigh, life is worth living. 

                             Well ok.

P.S. Mom is afraid of losing her job because… boy it’s a long story, worthy of TV. But I won’t tell it, I’ve written enough.

                          Yeah, god forbid you write anything interesting that isn’t all about you. I now have no recollection of what this TV worthy drama was, except that my mother’s boss was quite the piece of work.

P.P. S. Hey, did I ever write about x-mas vacation? I didn’t? Well, it was great. I got two new porcelain dolls. I love them. My other gifts were cool too. I was on the verge of happiness then, more than I am now. I really hate school I guess. Cegep application time soon, ahhhhh!

hate-school

 

December 10, 1992

September 18, 2017

I can’t wait ’till x-mas vacation. Only 6 more school days.

                         I still count down to vacay.

Isn’t it strange how I can only fantasize in the privacy of my own house (usually my room, sometimes TV room) when there’s no one else around? It’s like I’m afraid the people around me will read my thoughts.

                       I wasn’t talking about erotic fantasies or anything. Just regular melancholy wishing.

Once again I’m in Whitmore’s class, supposed to be writing an essay due Monday that I haven’t even started yet. I never write in my diary anymore. I only write on papers and insert them in. I should really rewrite the shorter ones or this diary won’t be able to close. I’m gonna have so much to do this x-mas vacation. I have so much to do before x-mas vac. In my last class I had the hiccups mondo time and now my stomach is grumbling an 8.5 on the Richter scale. STAR TREK TNG was one of my fave episodes last night – the one about the time loop thing. So cool! As usual Data saves the day. I’ve been thinking about a STAR TREK show that my bro and I invented. It will be called STAR TREK: THE CONTINUING MISSION. Cool, eh?

                      Yeah, super cool bro. And why did I continuously all caps ‘Star Trek’ in this entry? 

AAAAAGGG my stomach hurts! I’ve gotta buy a couple candy grams. I complain about it but I like receiving them, it’s a good feeling to know that people care enough about you to send you a 35¢ candy cane via homeroom mail. Sounds cheesy, and I guess it is. I don’t even like candy canes! I’m getting three as far as I know, so I’ll put them on the tree! Our tree’s nice I think. I did most of the decorating. I wish I had a gift exchange to do (not school wise of course). Mom’s doing one at work, the lunch table people are doing one. Keith’s doing one (even though it is class room wise) I wanna give and get. Oh well I guess I’ll just have to wait ’till x-mas. I just heard someone say that candy grams are not a measure of popularity. Of course they are! Everything in school is either a measure of popularity or academic achievement (both very unjustly weighed). I’m pathetic. I just realized I’m truly the queen of pathetic. I have no life outside of Star Trek, school, and drawing, ya know? I’ll never make it after school. I’ll never be independent. Most of all I’ll never be famous or meet my crush. I might as well face it, I’ll never meet him. Never in all my life will I ever know him. Never. I’m pathetically pitiful. I’m sitting here, writing to myself, supposed to be writing something I don’t get, and I’m not, and will never be, even significant enough to be counted as a statistic. I don’t matter at all. None of my dreams will ever come true. I’ll die young and loveless and pathetic. Life is just a bunch of lies. We lie to our friends, family, peers, authority figures, those over who we have authority, our environment, even ourselves. I’m a fake, do I know anyone who isn’t a fake? How could I know? Only the bad fakes are revealed to me. With all this, I still go on. Why do I go on? To spare grief to those I love? Why bother? I’m not sparing it, just delaying it. So I can see how the world turns out? Partly, but who cares how it will turn out once I’m dead? So I don’t miss out on all the things I want see and do? Partly, but I’ll never do them anyway, I’ll just give myself more grief. Then why do I keep on living? Fear, that’s why. Because I’m afraid. Not afraid to die, but afraid to live but also afraid not to live. I’m afraid I’ll lose the only thing I ever really had. I’m afraid to end my life, because after I turn over that point there is no turning back, no remedy for the situation. Of course once I’m dead I’ll never know the difference anyway but as I’m alive, I’m too scared to take that chance. Well, I seem to have run out of space, so I’ll reread this now and surprise myself with my own insight and realisticness. 

self-esteem-self-awareness