My Diary and Early Life Lessons

AGE 14

May 29, 2000

My mom was crying again today of course. She expects different from Larry every time he says they’re going to meet up. He never does, yet every time he says it, she tends to get her hopes up. She always ends up crying. I’m the one that has to ask her what’s wrong, and every time she gives me the same answer. (Even at this moment she’s trying to explain him while I’m writing) She even brags about him when he treats her like shit. She knows I try to understand her position – I know it’s tough. But she doesn’t tell him how she feels. She doesn’t have enough guts to. She’s been telling me she’ll make him understand how she feels. Then she tells me that when he calls, I should tell him that she doesn’t want to talk. She plays these games. When Marcus called, she got pissed the guy I like was calling. But when Larry calls, she has to talk to him all of a sudden. She then acts HAPPY and cheery because she knows if she is in a bad mood still, explaining how she feels, and then he will not talk to her and basically hang up on her. She worships him and says it’s not her fault because she loves him, and love weakens people, and she is already a weak person. She has been waiting for him to leave his wife for two years now. Got to give her credit for patience I guess. I don’t really care or say anything. I just explain points of view. Even his. I think I understand him as well. She gets pissed though from the truth. She’ll have to accept that. Though I usually keep my mouth shut. It’s not that much of my business but I know they love each other…

I talked with Marcus until 4:00am last night. He called a little after midnight. The reason we got off the phone was because it died. (Mom is still crying and complaining even about the weather.)

AGE 25

November 14, 2010

I turned 25 last week. My 25th birthday was 25 hours long…during daylight savings. Being 25 is an odd feeling. I feel like I need to do more with my life. I am not reaching my potential (as Oprah has pushed we try) and I need to start making more efforts to. I volunteer for the Red Cross on Saturdays, which is fulfilling, but not nearly enough. I don’t think my destiny is to get married and have kids, though I’m not opposed to it. I feel like I am here for much more. We’ll see.

I’m going to my mother’s house in a few minutes. My mother recently bought brand new kitchen curtains in my childhood house. They look nice and I’m happy she replaced my ugly childhood curtains that have been there for years and years and years. I honestly don’t remember a whole lot from my childhood. I think I blocked most of it out. I do specifically remember one time that the old curtains remind me of, when my father was so peacefully reading the newspaper, I had tossed the remainder of my English muffin into the sink and got some of the strawberry jelly on those ugly curtains. This enraged my father so much that he hit me for a while. I remember looking at the hideous mushroom-shaped clock (which is also now gone) and wondering if would end soon since it went on for minutes-which seemed like hours. My father got a lot of therapy out from hitting Seth and I as kids, and I specifically remember how much he enjoyed it. I had, by this time of my childhood, learned how to not react to pain, which is probably why this time went on for so long. I think he saw it as a challenge. I just stared at that mushroom clock as the time passed and my father’s face get redder and redder as I still didn’t react to him or each time I got hit.

As I let myself cry when I finally got to my room, it wasn’t the pain that made me cry, it was the uncomfortable feeling I was left with as I thought about how peaceful my father was one second and then how enraged with anger he was the next, as well as how much odd pleasure he got from hitting me. I have never been truly comfortable with any man, however, I still love Strawberry Jelly.