more stories

Well, I promised more stories, and here they are. I made references to 2 specific ones, so I'll tell those.

The first reference was when I went against the flow, and did things not everyone does, in an attempt to make myself better. I've done this twice. The first time was when I decided to call it quits with the public school system. I had been going to this small public school in the boonies since kindergarten. There were 30 kids in my class, and it would stay that way all through high school. I needed more than that, more experience, more friends, more of a living experience than this little school. I wasn't content there, and it showed... to my parents, my teachers, and my friends. Not that I had a lot of friends there. I had maybe 2, and I hated everyone else. I thought they were all idiots, and bad influences on me. Even from that young age, I knew who would and wouldn't make something out of their lives, and the people I was with weren't. So, I decided to seperate from my friends, and everything I knew, to go to a private Catholic high school. I'm not even Catholic, but I went in the hopes that I would turn out differently than most of the other people I went to gradeschool with. Not too interesting a story, I know, which is why I skipped it.

The next story I referenced was when I said I prefer people not knowing different things about me, and not seeing when I revert to something I don't like being. This happens very rarely, but it does happen. I have bouts of 'depression', I guess. I quoted it, because I'm relatively sure that's not what it is. It's just me getting very down and out, in a very bad way, for 3 days or so, then getting back to myself. I don't know why I do it, but it's happened twice now. I guess I ignore my feelings for so long, then something happens that triggers some sort of emotion or something, and I just lock myself away until it stops. Well, both times this has happened I was in Chicago. Chicago was a weird experience for me. I went there just a few weeks after graduating high school, and throughout my 2 years NEVER made any friends. None. I thought that was odd, since I was always one to have tons of friends, and rarely stay home on weeknights, much less weekends. I spent all my time, by myself, in my tiny little apartment watching TV or movies. These were not the best times of my life. I would talk to my friends who were enjoying their college life, and it would make me feel even worse. It was hard for me to get away from Chicago. I was working, and always had a lot of homework to do. These were lonely days. Well, my 20th birthday was also my first day of the new quarter. I was already feeling pretty shitty, having spent my birthday alone, eating Pizza Hut carryout, and watching a rented movie. Of course no one at school remembered my birtday, but I was looking forward to getting my mail on my way back. I had 4 cards. One from my parents, and 3 from various friends. One was from Barb, which I thought was a little bit strange. I hadn't talked to her for a long time, and for her to remember my birthday was really nice. I get up to my apartment and open her card first, curious to see what was in it. Well, it wasn't a birthday card. It was an engagement notice. Barb was engaged to Nick. This made me so horrible, and I couldn't understand why exactly. By this point I was really bitter about the whole thing, and was on the verge of hating Barb. There was no reason something like this should have set me off, but it did. I got really 'depressed'.

I sat alone for a day or 2, skipping class because I just didn't feel like going. Finally I went online to check my email and one of my friends was trying to talk to me. I responded in little quips, because I didn't want anything to slip, or her to find out anything about me I didn't want her knowing. I didn't want her to know about the announcement, or why it upset me, or that i was even upset. Well, she could tell somehow, and called me on it. I told her everything, and even started crying, right there at my keyboard. I hadn't cried since my grandpa died when I was 5 years old, and here I was bawling like a little girl. This wasn't my best time.

She knows me better than a lot of people at this point, and even she knows very little about the goings-on on the other side. She also asks me less questions these days, which to me means either she respects that my business is my business, or that she doesn't necassarily want to even know the business I was up to. I guess it doesn't really even matter which is which, I guess.

But.. yeah, so there's some stories. That last one rambled without a really good point, but there it was.