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Dear Diary,2
I need a name for you, something that describes my life and sounds pretty. Hmmmm. I’ve always liked the name Broken, so I guess that is what I’ll call you from now on.3
I have never written in a diary before. My counselor says that it should have a name, because then it will feel more like you’re talking to a person rather than just writing nonsense on a sheet of lined paper. Why would you want to tell anyone how you truly feel? What is the element that lets people trust others, the same element that was taken from me so long ago?4
In all the same subject, I have always wondered why people will do anything, even evil things, to be different from others. What advantages are there to being different. Humans are ignorant in the way that if something is different, they fear and hate it. I can even say the same thing for myself. So are you, so is everyone. If somebody was walking home from school one day with a partner, and you encountered an entirely new species, what would they feel? If it had claws and fangs like daggers and red devilish eyes would you feel curious or accepting like you thought you would when I said you’d be scared? And what if it ate your partner, if they were your best friend, would you be angry? Of course you would, so would I, because that would be everyone’s immediate reaction. But did anyone ever consider that the creature cannot help the way it looks because it is born that way and it only ate your partner because it would have died of starvation and knew no other food? What choice did it have?5
The point I’m trying to make is that why would anyone want to be that monster, hunted and hated for only doing what it had to do? Why would you want to stand out to everybody, only to notice everybody looking and gawking at you and how weird and stupid you are? What is the point of trying to be made fun of, of trying to be something you are not. To keep yourself known? Well in that case, would you rather be known as bad and evil or not be known at all? Believe me, I have made this mistake of wanting to be different, of trying to get myself noticed, and it has haunted me ever since. Now, I long to be similar, to blend in, to be away from all the anger and hatred. I long to be the same.6
I have never told anyone this before and hope that one day when I decide to share this that people will understand. People say they already do understand, but would they understand that creature if it was your best friend it ate? 7
Does anyone really know what pain is? What makes an emotion pain? What can give someone the right to decide if their pain is greater than yours? My stepfather, he told me a lot about him yesterday. I never really liked him, he always used to drink when he was angry or worked hard and then found something to blame on me or my family. You see, my mother had to go away on a court case to California, so it was just me and him. His 8 month pregnant wife (and his son too I guess you could say) were killed in a car crash by a drunk driver. He killed an innocent woman and an infant, and the man only got 7 and a half years in prison. Just as I was listening to him, we watched a movie about how 2 brothers killed their mother and one got life in prison and the other brother got a death penalty. One person was killed and 2 men got put away for life, but a man killed a young woman and an INFANT, and he is out walking the streets today. My stepfather was devastated and thought he could never live another day, but he did, didn’t he? He’s here. I then found out that the lead woman of MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) told him not to stop drinking because of this event. Now, his family was killed by a drunk driver, why would she tell him to keep drinking? Because if he stopped, he would have to do it for his own reasons, for his own sake. He still drinks today.8
The point is that I found out I underestimated the pain in his life, but still I feel I am underestimating it. I have never felt a huge loss like that, and even if I did, I was not him, I could not feel his pain. I know my past is bad, but his seems just as bad now. If I underestimated someone else’s pain that easily and quickly, how much does everyone else in the world underestimate? True, they are not me, but that is a simple human feeling, to always feel that your pain is worse, to feel that you deserve more. But why? What gives us the right to feel better than them? 9
Well, I guess now that I have all that said, I can move on to the purpose of what a diary is actually for: recording what I feel at this moment. I am so sick and f ucking tired of people always blaming me for everything, no matter the circumstances. For example, yesterday night I was coughing really bad. I just got over this really bad cold flu sort of thing but I never got rid of my cough. The nasty liquid medicine wasn’t working, so my mom got me these huge gel pills. I took them without water because I was laying down and was too tired to move. All of a sudden I just started coughing over and over and forcing up the pressure in my stomach but I didn’t throw up. I was coughing every second for a minute or two when my mom came in and said ‘This is ridiculous. Have you taken your medicine? God, I told you to take your medicine!” and she just walked out. What she didn’t realize though is that one of the stupid pills got caught in my throat and I was choking on it. Something that completely isn’t my fault, yet I got into trouble. Again. Always.10
It’s stupid I guess, what I do when I get in trouble. I guess I sort of create my own pain. I have had so much pain and so much betrayal in my life that I don’t feel pain anymore. Whenever I should be hurting or upset, I subconsciously go back to a memory. A terrible memory.11
I was so young, not even 10. It’s not like this is some stupid story book when I remember every little detail and the date in time, this is real life. It actually happened. Anyways, I don’t specifically remember the reason being for this event, I just think that I finally had it with life. All that consisted of mine was pain, real pain, and betrayal of the worst kind. A single girl destroyed my life. She moved to my school and told all my friends lies and rumors and soon everyone was turning their backs on me when I needed support the most. I trusted so easily then, so every new person I met I trusted them. Then I found out they only talked to me as a dare from their friends. It hurt, it hurt really badly. Like when someone you know asks you out, you first think they are just kidding around with me, he’s just playing. But inside, so deep inside you want it to be real, you want it to be true. Then you find out it was all a joke. You knew it, yet it still hurts. I knew now that nobody was my friend, but I still had hope. I think the memory is the day I finally let go of that hope.12
But now, for the memory itself. I just explained why I think the memory occurred. But you see, at the time, I think I had a friend, a real friend. I didn’t think so then, I knew better. But looking back on it now, I really think she was the only sincere one, the only one that didn’t hate and despise me due to that one girl’s influence. Sorry, anyways. I had finally let it all go, given it all up. I ran into the bathroom and just sat down in the corner between a sink and a will, and I just faced the wall. I remember mostly the tip-tap, tip-tap of the broken faucet. My one friend knew I was upset, she knew what I was going through (sorry for not using names, it would just seem so weird saying them now, considering this was more than 5 years ago). Anyways, I grabbed my knees to my chest and just cried. And cried and cried and cried. I was so alone, so desperate. I heard, over my sobs, someone walking in. I didn’t care. I was alone, nobody could help me. The ones I trusted, the ones I thought I knew, were the same ones that put me here. Or there or whatever. But when I forced myself to turn around, I saw my friend. But back then when this was really happening, I didn’t see a friend, I saw a person who was just playing with my head, torturing me and forcing me to live in sorrow. In a way, I sort of saw myself. But the entire memory focuses on what I did next: I turned my head away, and resumed crying. Just at that moment, I knew the world had left me here to die, that god had for some unknown reason chosen me to suffer this way. I had turned my back on the world, just as it had turned it’s back on me so willingly. 13
I create my own pain when I remember that, because I remember the feeling of being abandoned, cast aside so easily. That memory is the source, and even to this day I still don’t remember how or why I gave the world another chance, but I did. Sometimes, probably by coincidence, it rains when I am crying over something. I hear thunder as I write this diary entry. Sometimes I think God is apologizing and some times I think he is taunting, I don’t know.14
But all my life I have lived within myself, within my fantasy world and dreams. I am not sure how to come out of that. Sometimes I get so involved with my own reality I fear that someday I will see that reality merge with this one and I will become crazy. I have kept that from happening. Everyday I see new things that I keep to myself, that I am able to keep to myself. I have been my own encyclopedia, my own heart and dreams, my own hero. Well, every moment of my life I guess I have been my own hero. I have accomplished things I’m not sure many others can. I think that makes me a hero in my own way, don’t you think. I have made all these new questions about myself and hopefully answered questions to others. One day I hope that will be enough for me. My dreams kept me alive, but I think it is time for me to do one last heroic thing and give life another chance. I will escape my dreams and come to terms with all I have lost over the years. Emerging from that world is hard and will forever be hard, but I think I am ready. Thank you, Broken, my wonderful diary. I never knew that just writing could be so helpful. I don’t feel as if “a weight has been lifted on my shoulders”, I just feel as if now someone can read about my past and my life through me, my perspective. I have never been able to do that before, so thank you. I will be back to write soon, please don’t forget me.15
Author notes
this actually is the first entry to one of my diaries. Everyimte I try to write a second entry, I read this one. And for some reason, I am unable to continue. This is all true and very recent, so I hope you liked it.
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This was a one burden off your shoulders and this one is superb for its sheer explicit quality in your thought process and I can feel the sense of mood you are in out here nay the courage grit and determination that you show is awesome...Makes me wonder...Shubs
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this really makes yout think. i loved your expression
very nice -
Wow its good that u are letting your feelings out.It got me so sad when your so called friends left you behind.I think im going to start my own dont really know but you got me inspired to write a diary in the internet cuz it feels better when you let someone know about your pain insted of writting it in pagas of a diary book because there only you will know about it and it will still be like if you looked it up inside.This a great for of telling the world how u feel and you will feel better cuz other ppl are knowing about u and they could give you advice about things thatn just looking it up in a normal page diary.Well great diary entry.I hope u write more.2doodles
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this is wonderful CA. this is a great start to get rid of the bad feelings. i know its hard for you. and it is especailly hard for you. write more of these. if just for me. i want to read them
-Kevin
my favorite favoirte quote is: life is but a tender kiss...don't break away. please...don't. i love you too much to see hurt this way. i wish i was next to you right now, giving you a hug, and telling you how everything will be alright. just remember that. if you think of something bad, just rember that. you mean so much to me. -
ah wonderful..i love diary entries and plan to start my own soon..i won't do any harsh critiqing (not that it needs it)...this is very personal stuff..i'd just like to say good luck in all to come and great writing here..keep it up
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