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September 23, 2003 It’s me again. I always come back to you, right now, you’re the only one I can talk to about this. It’s too weird. It’s too crazy…but I think I should tell her. I really need someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t um…paper. We’ve been best friends since grade school, it’s only right that she should know. Why didn’t I tell her in the first place? It’s not like I stole her boyfriend or said something bad about her behind her back.
She’ll probably think it’s cool knowing her. Why is it so hard for me to tell? Perhaps it’s because my mother went insane? I’m scared. So scared that I’m going crazy too, that she’ll see me do what I think I can…No. So scared that she won’t see me do what I think I can, and it’ll be all over. Nothing special about me, I’m just delusional, like my mother. Inherited schizophrenia. Is that really it? Am I just crazy? Mom saw things that clearly never happened, am I seeing them too?
I researched it in class today. We have to write a research paper for English class, I chose to use my research time to look up schizophrenia on the school computers. Perhaps I’ll do my paper on that. I think I will. More importantly though, I read that schizophrenia seems to run in families, skipping generations, going down the line erratically. I have a 10% higher chance of having schizo than the average human because my mother has it. Her father had it. How many people in my mom’s family had it?
But it’s soooo real! I can make myself ghost-like right now, dropping my pen through my hand, walk through the walls, go and visit one of the ghosts I’ve met since my accident. It all goes back to the accident. Did something extraordinary happen to me, or did my scrape with death awaken a disease within me. A disease I’ve been scared of ever since mother came down with it.
Dear God, if I can’t do what I think I can, if I tell Sarah…I’ll know for sure. I’ll know I’m crazy, my mind doomed to a paranoid, crazy existence locked in a room by myself. My mind is very important to me, you see. I believe it is my greatest asset, I really do. If I learn that I’m going to lose it, that I’m…
But the not knowing…it’s just as hard, especially if I can do this, and I don’t share it with someone…she knows. Sarah knows I am keeping something from her. Of course she knows. We’ve been best friends for nearly 8 years now. I can tell that this secrecy hurts her, our friendship. Yesterday, she asked me if I was thinking of committing suicide. I’m not, but she’s worried at how withdrawn I’ve become.
Becoming ghost-like, intangible…Talking to people no one else can see for god’s sake! And then there’s Caleb…my first kiss—a dead guy! God, I am delusional! I need to tell her. Then I’ll know for certain… Yours truly, --Dragonfly
She’ll probably think it’s cool knowing her. Why is it so hard for me to tell? Perhaps it’s because my mother went insane? I’m scared. So scared that I’m going crazy too, that she’ll see me do what I think I can…No. So scared that she won’t see me do what I think I can, and it’ll be all over. Nothing special about me, I’m just delusional, like my mother. Inherited schizophrenia. Is that really it? Am I just crazy? Mom saw things that clearly never happened, am I seeing them too?
I researched it in class today. We have to write a research paper for English class, I chose to use my research time to look up schizophrenia on the school computers. Perhaps I’ll do my paper on that. I think I will. More importantly though, I read that schizophrenia seems to run in families, skipping generations, going down the line erratically. I have a 10% higher chance of having schizo than the average human because my mother has it. Her father had it. How many people in my mom’s family had it?
But it’s soooo real! I can make myself ghost-like right now, dropping my pen through my hand, walk through the walls, go and visit one of the ghosts I’ve met since my accident. It all goes back to the accident. Did something extraordinary happen to me, or did my scrape with death awaken a disease within me. A disease I’ve been scared of ever since mother came down with it.
Dear God, if I can’t do what I think I can, if I tell Sarah…I’ll know for sure. I’ll know I’m crazy, my mind doomed to a paranoid, crazy existence locked in a room by myself. My mind is very important to me, you see. I believe it is my greatest asset, I really do. If I learn that I’m going to lose it, that I’m…
But the not knowing…it’s just as hard, especially if I can do this, and I don’t share it with someone…she knows. Sarah knows I am keeping something from her. Of course she knows. We’ve been best friends for nearly 8 years now. I can tell that this secrecy hurts her, our friendship. Yesterday, she asked me if I was thinking of committing suicide. I’m not, but she’s worried at how withdrawn I’ve become.
Becoming ghost-like, intangible…Talking to people no one else can see for god’s sake! And then there’s Caleb…my first kiss—a dead guy! God, I am delusional! I need to tell her. Then I’ll know for certain… Yours truly, --Dragonfly Saronai :: remember :: |
Closet Skeletons
