No One Knows What We Know

Jack's Journal

Journal Entry

it’s 6pm my time and i have a floating eyelash in my left eye. my dog is asleep at my feet, warm and cuddled up to my ankles crossed over one another. i’m not entirely sure what to write about but i know that i really need to. i haven’t had any big seizure activity at night, first of all, which is really big. second of all, Brad put on the most amazing lightning show at my house last night and i forgot to mention it in the letter i sent to him today, because i’m a dumbass. my parents are going out to dinner, i’m laying here listening to music i recently downloaded and paid for, like a GROWN UP. weird.

the excitement when i wake up in the mornings now, is mind boggling to me. i feel the excitement my dog feels when i come home, when i get good morning texts from L or Eve. i wish there were people around here who understood. but i don’t wish that hard. i’m okay with what i have.

i know what problems i need to address. somewhere. somewhere, somewhere. i have a ridiculous crush on Brad. i’m annoying myself with it. but i could sit here and day dream about him for hours. i could touch his finger tips and his knees and not say a word and be content. see how annoying i am about it?

i can’t tell who came and visited me today. it felt like Clyde, but i’m assuming he has more important things to do than check in on me. i’ve been doing okay. he may just be a nice guy. he may just want to check. i wanted to tell Grady about the man i met at the post office. i never did. i should probably write him a letter. i never reach out to Grady and i think his wisdom intimidates me. it shouldn’t, i know he doesn’t feel that he is any better than anyone else, i don’t sense condescension in him. i suppose i just feel like i have to mentally prepare myself before i speak with Grady. hell, even Clyde for that matter. i thought i knew SO MUCH. what an asshole i was. there was an exercise i saw, write a letter to yourself, but you 5 years ago. without giving away the entirety of what happens, let your 5 year ago self know what it needed to know at the time. THAT scares me. 5 years ago, i was 18. there was no speaking to me then. i took medication if i felt like it, i drank continuously, spent literally THOUSANDS of dollars on booze and drugs and junk food. what the hell would i say? keep it up kid, you’ll learn from it. that’s a horrible thing to tell 18 year old me.

i knew back then that what i was doing was wrong, and it was stupid and i was making disappointing choices. i was disappointed in myself. i still am sometimes. i was still weighing out death as an option. ‘there’s always that’, i would say to myself. i wonder when the last time was i thought about dying? hoped for it, i mean. dreamed about it, romanticized it.

detox just to retox.

i had to step out back behind the garage quite a bit today whenever i wanted to smoke. that’s the problem with weekends, the children are around. anyway, while i was back there, there was really good size toad sitting in the wet leaves in a wooded slat. he was a brighter green than i’m used to seeing them, his black spots outlined in yellow. he wasn’t as cold as other toads i’ve felt, they are cold-blooded after all, but he was warm. he let me pet him a lot, even hopped closer to me when i stopped. i think it might have been my grandfather. he loved frogs, and he loved me. i miss him dearly. my dog decided he wanted to have some fun with the frog and the frog got all bloated and peed everywhere and hopped away, my dog running the opposite direction crying from fear.

i’m going into the salon tomorrow. i have nothing to say. i’m slowly becoming slightly depressed, which is strange. i don’t know why, i can’t think of a valid reason. maybe i’m just fed up with my environment. maybe i’m fed up with myself? no. i haven’t done anything to make myself that upset. i suppose i just…..i don’t know, really. i miss Brad. i’m thinking about him. i miss L, and Eve, they both feel very far away from me and that makes me sad. but i know they arent. i need to keep that in my mind. they aren’t gone, they didn’t disappear. they’re around. i’m not alone. i just feel so fucking lonely sometimes.

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy.

nobody wants to hear you speak. i wasn’t even talking to you.

you’re always talking to me, no one else will listen to your fucking nonsense.

you’re mean.

why do you think you’re good enough?

excuse me?

why do you think you’re good enough to surround yourself with these people? these amazing fucking people that have done so much good for you. who the hell do you think you are?

i’m allowed to fucking be happy. i deserve to be happy. why do you want me to feel like i don’t deserve it?

because you don’t.

fuck you.

i hate you.

apparently.

you’re not good enough for L, you aren’t good enough for Eve, and you are CERTAINLY not good enough for Brad. i don’t blame Nick for brushing you off.

……

Dean is going to hate you.

maybe.

no, probably.

cue Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes.

i’m on a downward spiral tonight. i’m supposed to go into the salon tomorrow. really? picturing it now, i don’t want to. i can’t picture getting up. well. right now i can. i want to sit on the porch and chain smoke and drink iced coffee and text L or Eve or anyone. i want to not feel sad. i’m scared. that’s a bad sign.