I keep having these terrible thoughts that she's never going to talk to me again, that I'm stifling her, that she can't deal with me anymore. And that can't happen, because I would be absolutely lost without her. I keep making up counter-arguments in my head--the reasons of why we're the best pair of friends there ever was, lists of everything I've done for her and everything we're supposed to do together in the future.
If she doesn't say something to me by this weekend, I'm going to contact her myself and ask what's going on. I'm so scared, so so scared! I can't lose her as my best friend!
Breeeaaaaathing now. Except not really.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
What should have been my college essay
When I was in the first grade, I entered a Reading Rainbow picture book contest with a piece titled "My Little Big Sister." I ended up winning third place for it, but back then I didn't realize that it was only because I captured the pity vote by writing about my older sister, Allison, who has Down syndrome. My mom actually encouraged me to write it--this sweet, innocent story about how even though Allison looked different and was shorter than I was, she was still a great big sister--knowing full well that within years, everything I thought about my sister would change.
Of course, at the time I wrote the story, our differences weren't so apparent--she hadn't been put in Special Ed. yet, and I hadn't started my whole "Gifted and Talented" rigmarole. But as kids get older, they tend to get meaner too, and once they started teasing Allison I began to notice that some parts of her were "off." She talked weird, she had a lurching, jerking gait, she couldn't jump rope, she never dressed like the other girls. She only had two friends, and one of them was me.
For a couple years, I was my sister's playground protector, trying to deflect the jeers coming her way with a glare or stuck-out tongue. If I saw a bully walking toward her, I would get my friends to rush over to her with me and start up a game of Concentration, beating the bully to the spot as if to say, "See? Allison can be normal too."
It wasn't always easy: as I grew older I became increasingly shocked by how mean-spirited elementary schoolers could be. Once when Allison and I were getting off the school bus, the worst bully, Chris, put his foot across the aisle and made a "retard face" at Allison, and wouldn't let her pass until she picked her nose. I was terrified of this boy twice my size, but I somehow summoned up the courage to say "Take a picture, jerk, it'll last longer" It was the snarkiest remark I could come up with, and apparently one that Chris found hilariously pathetic and laughed in my face for. I only vaguely remember kicking down Chris' leg and pulling Allison off the bus by her hand. But I will never forget that burning-in-my-throat-tears-in-my-eyes feeling of realizing for the first time that there would always be people who mistreated my sister for the way she was born, and there was no way I could get them to think differently.
Allison and I were separated for middle school so she could be in a special program, which came as somewhat of a relief to me. I was tired of having to stick up for her constantly, and with her at a different school I could just pretend she was getting on okay without me. Sure, she still liked Pokemon when all the other girls were talking about their crushes, but she never complained to me about anyone bothering her. When we were put back together for high school, I still never saw any blatant harassment and so I assumed she didn't need my help anymore. She never seemed to want friends; she was content to just sit in front of her laptop watching movies for hours. Of course, she never told me how she felt, because she wouldn't be Allison if she did. To this day, she remains unable to discuss her emotions, and I have no idea what's going on in her head.
Now she's in college (yes, real college, albeit a tiny one with very lenient admissions) working toward an associate's degree. She comes home Every. Single. Weekend. She finds sitting alone in her room all day long better than staying at school, trying to socialize. I can understand her fear, but I'm scared she's becoming too attached to home: last week she asked to come home a day earlier than usual, insisted on going back to school at the last possible minute, and Skyped my mom once she got there. It's driving me crazy!
Sometimes (actually, all the time) I wish I could have a sibling that I wouldn't have to worry about for the rest of my life. One who could just call me up to talk about her problems, get over them, and then move on without needing her parents for support. Who knows what's going to happen with Allison? She could become so attached to home that she drops out of school, for all I know. And after my parents die, is my home going to be the one she comes back to when she has a problem? Will I be in charge of reading her feelings, of making sure she has the appropriate care? I'm not sure I'll want to do that....
One extra chromosome sure carries a lot of weight.
Of course, at the time I wrote the story, our differences weren't so apparent--she hadn't been put in Special Ed. yet, and I hadn't started my whole "Gifted and Talented" rigmarole. But as kids get older, they tend to get meaner too, and once they started teasing Allison I began to notice that some parts of her were "off." She talked weird, she had a lurching, jerking gait, she couldn't jump rope, she never dressed like the other girls. She only had two friends, and one of them was me.
For a couple years, I was my sister's playground protector, trying to deflect the jeers coming her way with a glare or stuck-out tongue. If I saw a bully walking toward her, I would get my friends to rush over to her with me and start up a game of Concentration, beating the bully to the spot as if to say, "See? Allison can be normal too."
It wasn't always easy: as I grew older I became increasingly shocked by how mean-spirited elementary schoolers could be. Once when Allison and I were getting off the school bus, the worst bully, Chris, put his foot across the aisle and made a "retard face" at Allison, and wouldn't let her pass until she picked her nose. I was terrified of this boy twice my size, but I somehow summoned up the courage to say "Take a picture, jerk, it'll last longer" It was the snarkiest remark I could come up with, and apparently one that Chris found hilariously pathetic and laughed in my face for. I only vaguely remember kicking down Chris' leg and pulling Allison off the bus by her hand. But I will never forget that burning-in-my-throat-tears-in-my-eyes feeling of realizing for the first time that there would always be people who mistreated my sister for the way she was born, and there was no way I could get them to think differently.
Allison and I were separated for middle school so she could be in a special program, which came as somewhat of a relief to me. I was tired of having to stick up for her constantly, and with her at a different school I could just pretend she was getting on okay without me. Sure, she still liked Pokemon when all the other girls were talking about their crushes, but she never complained to me about anyone bothering her. When we were put back together for high school, I still never saw any blatant harassment and so I assumed she didn't need my help anymore. She never seemed to want friends; she was content to just sit in front of her laptop watching movies for hours. Of course, she never told me how she felt, because she wouldn't be Allison if she did. To this day, she remains unable to discuss her emotions, and I have no idea what's going on in her head.
Now she's in college (yes, real college, albeit a tiny one with very lenient admissions) working toward an associate's degree. She comes home Every. Single. Weekend. She finds sitting alone in her room all day long better than staying at school, trying to socialize. I can understand her fear, but I'm scared she's becoming too attached to home: last week she asked to come home a day earlier than usual, insisted on going back to school at the last possible minute, and Skyped my mom once she got there. It's driving me crazy!
Sometimes (actually, all the time) I wish I could have a sibling that I wouldn't have to worry about for the rest of my life. One who could just call me up to talk about her problems, get over them, and then move on without needing her parents for support. Who knows what's going to happen with Allison? She could become so attached to home that she drops out of school, for all I know. And after my parents die, is my home going to be the one she comes back to when she has a problem? Will I be in charge of reading her feelings, of making sure she has the appropriate care? I'm not sure I'll want to do that....
One extra chromosome sure carries a lot of weight.
Nature Feels and other good things
It's exam week at my school, and because I only have an exam during the second block today, I was actually able to sleep in a little. So I got up around 7:30, feeling nice and rested, and proceeded to make myself some chocolate chip pancakes. "Delect," as my sister would say.
Now, I should be studying a bit more for my math exam, but instead all I'm doing is sitting around listening to Frank Ocean. Basically all his songs are about sex, but his voice is velvet and the melodies are so catchy that you can't help but sing along! And...fall in love with him. Listen. Ugh!
Adios until after my exams.
Now, I should be studying a bit more for my math exam, but instead all I'm doing is sitting around listening to Frank Ocean. Basically all his songs are about sex, but his voice is velvet and the melodies are so catchy that you can't help but sing along! And...fall in love with him. Listen. Ugh!
Adios until after my exams.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Black.
That is all I'm feeling now. Oh, and empty. I try to be a good friend. I mean, I really, really, pour my entire heart into every friendship I have. Does that make me overbearing?
I guess I assume that because the first thing I want to do when I have a problem is call a friend, my friends must always want someone to talk to, too. And when they don't ask for my help, I offer it to them. In my mind, this means that I am attentive, that I pick up on when my friends are feeling low and try my best to make them feel better again. But, maybe some people perceive it differently.
I have been best friends with M. for about a year. I know it doesn't seem like that long, but trust me, we are as close as sisters. When we're together, it's like the most amazing natural high I've ever experienced. She has transformed me into an extraordinarily confident, spiritual person within such a short amount of time, and for that I feel like I owe her so much. We have a billion inside jokes. I trust her with things I'd never tell anyone else. Christ, I love her.
But pretty much since the beginning of our friendship there has been this unsettling underlying current of knowing that at any moment, she could shut down. Just utterly block out me and the problems that I might be having, or refuse to let me in on what's going on in her life. It usually only lasts a week or so and then things go back to normal, but let me reiterate: SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND. It seems like a lot longer than a week when she's barely talking to me.
Today I semi-confronted her via Facebook after a week of her sort of blowing me off and then asking me to pray for her without saying why. Essentially all I said was, Look, I know something's bothering you, and if you're not going to talk to me about it, please just talk to someone about it. I legitimately care for this girl, and so while of course I want her to tell me about her problems, if it makes her uncomfortable to do that then I want her to seek help from someone else. I never in any way demanded that she tell me what was going on.
So, a little bit later some stuff shows up on my Newsfeed about her writing on another friend's wall. Her phone broke in October, I think, and I assumed she still didn't have a new one, because she hadn't been texting/calling me. But she offered to text her number to this other friend...as in, she does have a new phone, she's just deliberately cutting me out so I can't contact her.
I am obviously very hurt. I don't know if she realizes how much I care about her, how much I want her to be happy, and how terrible it makes me feel when she acts like our friendship doesn't exist. If she wants space, I wish she would just fucking tell me--I would give it to her, no questions asked. But this cryptic, let's-ignore-Caroline-so-I-don't-have-to-talk-to-her game is getting old.
I have a feeling things will resolve within a week or so. But after they do, I need to have a serious conversation with her, and tell her to please stop stomping on my feelings, please and thank you.
Night.
I guess I assume that because the first thing I want to do when I have a problem is call a friend, my friends must always want someone to talk to, too. And when they don't ask for my help, I offer it to them. In my mind, this means that I am attentive, that I pick up on when my friends are feeling low and try my best to make them feel better again. But, maybe some people perceive it differently.
I have been best friends with M. for about a year. I know it doesn't seem like that long, but trust me, we are as close as sisters. When we're together, it's like the most amazing natural high I've ever experienced. She has transformed me into an extraordinarily confident, spiritual person within such a short amount of time, and for that I feel like I owe her so much. We have a billion inside jokes. I trust her with things I'd never tell anyone else. Christ, I love her.
But pretty much since the beginning of our friendship there has been this unsettling underlying current of knowing that at any moment, she could shut down. Just utterly block out me and the problems that I might be having, or refuse to let me in on what's going on in her life. It usually only lasts a week or so and then things go back to normal, but let me reiterate: SHE IS MY BEST FRIEND. It seems like a lot longer than a week when she's barely talking to me.
Today I semi-confronted her via Facebook after a week of her sort of blowing me off and then asking me to pray for her without saying why. Essentially all I said was, Look, I know something's bothering you, and if you're not going to talk to me about it, please just talk to someone about it. I legitimately care for this girl, and so while of course I want her to tell me about her problems, if it makes her uncomfortable to do that then I want her to seek help from someone else. I never in any way demanded that she tell me what was going on.
So, a little bit later some stuff shows up on my Newsfeed about her writing on another friend's wall. Her phone broke in October, I think, and I assumed she still didn't have a new one, because she hadn't been texting/calling me. But she offered to text her number to this other friend...as in, she does have a new phone, she's just deliberately cutting me out so I can't contact her.
I am obviously very hurt. I don't know if she realizes how much I care about her, how much I want her to be happy, and how terrible it makes me feel when she acts like our friendship doesn't exist. If she wants space, I wish she would just fucking tell me--I would give it to her, no questions asked. But this cryptic, let's-ignore-Caroline-so-I-don't-have-to-talk-to-her game is getting old.
I have a feeling things will resolve within a week or so. But after they do, I need to have a serious conversation with her, and tell her to please stop stomping on my feelings, please and thank you.
Night.
Hello, world.
I wonder if anyone will ever find this, or if I'll ever willingly let someone see this. Anyhow, I am Caroline. I am infatuated with theater, glitter, vegan baking, and my friends, though not necessarily in that order. I've started this blog because I've been meaning to write more, and I feel that having a blog vs. a paper journal will make it easier for me. I'm also at a rather chaotic time in my life--I'm a senior in high school, waiting for college acceptance letters, dealing with friend drama, etc.--so I figure that I should have some sort of outlet for my thoughts.
I've been writing since middle school, basically, and I do everything from normal journaling to poetry to short stories (I won a fiction contest for Seventeen Magazine, not that it really means anything). I hope this blog helps me to further develop my writing skills, as well as experiment with new styles. If you have found this, miraculously, congratulations, and enjoy!
I've been writing since middle school, basically, and I do everything from normal journaling to poetry to short stories (I won a fiction contest for Seventeen Magazine, not that it really means anything). I hope this blog helps me to further develop my writing skills, as well as experiment with new styles. If you have found this, miraculously, congratulations, and enjoy!
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