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current mood: The current mood of lostintranslation at www.imood.com

coma

February 28th, 2001 - 11:00 PM

    I deserve to cry. Yet here I am- not crying. Why? Why should I be crying? I'll tell you why. I just typed out the longest diary entry ever. It had the most insight into me and my life than I've ever shared. It was written exactly the way I wanted it to be. I thought to myself, "Man... if I ever do write a book, this entry will definitely be some inspiration." So what happens? I accidentally close it out and it doesn't get saved. Because the universe hates me.

    I almost feel like it won't be the same if I retype it now. I'll keep going anyway. All this started when I was driving home from school. I came to a red light. I watched the people going by. I saw a man and a woman passing me by; the woman threw a cigarette out her window. The word "vice" came to mind. I realized that I saw all these strangers as ugly and sad creatures. They had no beauty in my eyes. The light turned green and I proceeded home. I walked over to my sofa and went into a waking coma for the next hour or so. Everything was black. My mother's arrival from work shook me out of my dream. It caused me to retreat to my room and snuggle into my own bed. There I spent another hour or so just being motionless. I could hear my family members yelling through the wall. Eventually it all faded into nothingness.

    At one point I remember my mom coming into my room to express concern. I don't really recall what she said. When she left I turned on the last half of Dawson's Creek. After that I watched The West Wing until I heard someone calling my name. There was still twenty minutes of the show left but I decided to see who wanted me. It turned out to be my mom. She told me that I couldn't just lay around. (By the way, I've always hated this verb. Lay, ly, lie... I have no idea.) Then the truth came out. She was angry that I hadn't cleaned anything. "So it's not so much concern for my mental condition as it is for my ability to help you clean?" I asked her mercilessly. "Don't turn my words around," she said defensively. I picture her in a courtroom.

    "I shot her in the head."

    "So you admit to killing her?"

    "Don't turn mys words around!"

    I see my mom as a negative influence. She tries to manipulate me. She always has. When I was a child I didn't realize what she was doing. I remember coming home from school to her announcing that she's throw away my beloved stuffed animal. I would run to ensure its safety. It was always there. She just liked to see me panic. She's also make an alien voice and tell me she'd been possessed. She'd tell me she didn't love me anymore. When I was three or four I almost drowned and she wouldn't admit that it ever happened. She pretended I had made it up. I remember these things now with anger. I see myself as a third party. Young!Brigid is different from Current!Brigid. She's naive and trusts her Mommy not to lie and trick her. Current!Brigid knows better... most of the time.

    My mom wanted to know why I was so depressed tonight. Why I couldn't move. I told her about the red light and how I saw people as vices. She looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. She told me that I sounded crazy. She looked at me as if she was sizing me up for a straight jacket. I glared at her. "What do you think I have?" I demanded. She had no answer. I had never really considered myself as seriously crazy. Depressed? Yes. Crazy? No.

    Leaving my mom, I headed upstairs to watch the end of The West Wing. My dad motioned for me to come talk to him. He made me a veggie "chicken" sandwich and we talked. He doesn't think I'm crazy. He thinks I'm old for my age and intelligent. I think that if my dad ever looked at me the way my mom had done that I would cry. With her, I just see a manipulative bitch who likes to see her own child suffer. She pretends to care but only so that she can feel good about herself and make me clean. In her head, my whole depression is really just a cover so that I won't have to load the dish washer. She's insane.

    So here I am. I didn't even watch The Daily Show because I wanted to type this up. Then, when I had gotten it almost perfect, the whole damn thing gets erased. It's simply not fair. I hope you enjoyed this second version anyway. Maybe you think I'm nuts too. I wouldn't blame you. It's not really normal to spend an entire afternoon in a bleak dreamless existence. Then again, maybe you put ketchup on your eggs, which I have never considered a good idea, and I think YOU'RE the abnormal one. So ha.

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