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(Most) Everybody Had A Hard Year
Gathered around the comforting entrance to the university's steamy utility tunnels, the topic of the conversation apparently turned to suicides. See, earlier in the night one of us was stumbling around after a hard day and several times mentioned cutting himself up with a razor. Such talk can safely be attributed to a supremely shit day and the effects of a dash of alcohol but nonetheless the discussion prompted someone else to tell the fate of a friend of theirs from high school. Long story short he was only moderately depressed about this and that, family and the school put him on suicide watch, pumped him full of various antidepressants, and right as they thought he was getting better from an illness they didn't know they overestimated he hanged himself in the closet. I've always thought it somewhat counterproductive that antidepressants make people kill themselves, but I digress.
Ever since leaving home I've met people who only a little into their 20's have already attended the funerals of five friends, or have a variety of psychological disorders that make them more or less dependent on regular medication, or watched people die in front of them, or have had legitimate call-the-police stalkers, and these are only the issues people have told me about. I can't relate to any of them. I don't know if sheltered is the right word or not, but my life noticeably lacks any real emotional scarring. Sure, I've had my hard days and dead pets but nothing nearly as miserable as a friend found hanging by her neck with her father's silk tie. I think lucky is a better word than sheltered.
The closest thing I can remember to a recent tragedy befalling the family is my grandmother being diagnosed with colon cancer, but at the time I was only 14 or 15 and didn't really know what was going on. And what's come in the wake is just a pathetic (yes, that's the right word) state of affairs rather than a life-jarring event (at least for me). It wasn't something instant at all, just a process slow and steady enough so that by the time I noticed what had happened I couldn't really be bothered with it. Shrug my shoulders--"such is life"--and go about my business. Maybe lucky isn't the right word, either.
Maybe I just absorb things rather than letting them tear me down like they would most people. (I really don't cry that much; is that a symptom or a problem?) I don't know if that's healthy or not. Really, I don't even know if that's what is going on. I do know that not being able to relate with a sad friend when you relate on all other levels is one of the most uncomfortable feelings a person can experience. On one hand I want to be able to identify with people's suffering. On the other, I'm happy I can say I lead a happy life and it would make me happy to keep it that way. I don't want anything particularly awful or unexpected to befall me. However, if the lives of my newly found peers are to be any indication I will soon enough understand other people's misery. Such is life.
14 Manifestos:
Maybe you're just practical, then. And of course, a little lucky.
The people in my life who died were all insignificant so I can't say I've ever grieved for anyone either. The only tragedy I've been through involved a silk dress and a hot iron. (I was speechless for a day, but at least I didn't slash my wrists.)
C'est la vie.
The only family I've ever had die on my are my great grandmother when I was still an infant (or maybe a toddler, I'm not really sure) and my uncle a few years back. He always seemed like a nice guy, always joking around and such, then I learned he was a pretty fierce womanizer and felt a little less upset about it. I never saw him that much, anyway.
Don't worry, you're not the only one. Since I have met new people in High School and College, I have realized just how much pain and adversity my life has lacked. It is a strange thing to feel guilty about.
It certainly is; glad to hear I'm not the only one on campus.
It's a good thing that you've not yet had any serious tragedy or misfortune to deal with. The hwole idea that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger is bullshit, psychologically speaking. It does not mean you aren't capable of empathy, it just means that somethings won't hit you in the same way until you've beeen through them.
And seriously, your parents don't know?
"Trouble you can't fool me
I see you behind that tree
Trouble you can't fool me
trying to get the ups on me
Trouble you can't fool me
I see you behind that tree
You want to jump on me"
call-the-police stalkers
I read that as call-the-phone stalkers.
I need more sleep.
Tell Slash to flay the length of the forearm to the wrist if they are searching for the most sure bet. Across the wrist itself is usually a sign of attention seeking behaviour.
Perhaps you're able to detach yourself from feeling too involved.
A couple of friend's deaths (one car crash, one suicide) has at most left me shaken for a bit. That's all
As Omar said: Down the road, not across the street.
You are just young is all. It's good you've escaped tragedy thus far, and it's also unusual. Maybe if/when one finally does strike, you'll be at a level of emotional maturity to be able to deal with it.
Citizen: The fact that my parents still don't know is complicated by the facts that I didn't even know myself until this past May at the earliest, and that I'm 300 miles away from them.
Khan: Shame I had to look that up, right?
Orhan: Yes, you do. Faggor.
Omar: Trust me, he is worth my attention. Positively adorable!
TS: That could be it, like I said I don't really know.
Josh: Maybe. There is the faggotry to deal with, remember? We make a big deal out of absolutely nothing, so imagine how we handle something!
Fuck. What has this world come to when a black, fat, fag, hasn't had his share of lynchin'. Go whistle at some white emo's military mamma.
mr bunny, it's mardi gras -- get off the internets --things be jumpin
Odd little part of university life. The year before I got there, a kid did a double gainer off the biology building.
Some people are just wound up a bit too tight O_O
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