High School Even though she was two years my junior, I always looked up to my sister. As long as I can remember, she was my mentor, life coach, and hero. With a terminal illness looming over her shoulder, Mallory had no choice but to rise above. And she was wise well beyond her years. --Micah, Mallory''s brother Thursday, July 23, 2009 (16 years old) Was talking with my mom today about Britney Spears'' younger sister, who will forever be known as the girl who got pregnant in high school and had an abortion because her mom made her. It led to my mom telling me about when she was pregnant with her third child, my would-be younger sister. The doctors advised her to terminate the pregnancy because the ultrasound showed that she had cystic fibrosis (CF), the number one genetic killer of children in the United States. They said it wouldn''t be fair to bring a child into this world knowing that it would suffer and probably die young.
I was three at the time. The next day, I was tested for CF. It turned out I had the disease, too. Talking about the symptoms and the science doesn''t bother me. It never has. But other parts are just too embarrassing to share, so I don''t. I think that''s why I like writing in this journal so much. Monday, July 27, 2009 Can''t believe I''m going to be a senior soon! I''m feeling a strange combination of excitement, anticipation, anxiety, fear.
I made my college list. DEF not going to add any more, but I might take some off if the applications get to be too much. I''m thinking: Duke, Vanderbilt, University of Virginia, Stanford, the UCs, Pomona, USC, San Luis Obispo, Pepperdine, Michigan, UPenn. Thinking about college apps always leads me back to thinking about what I want. My friends don''t seem to go down this rabbit hole the way I do. I think my diagnosis is why I obsess about it. But what is it I do want?? I want to grab life and take it. I want a rich, unforgettable, well-rounded, happy high school experience.
I want to fall in love, go to football games, make friends, laugh a lot, cry (but not about how much homework there is, which is the only reason I shed a tear these days). I want to live it for me, not for my coaches, my friends, my parents. I want competition to rear its ugly head only on the volleyball court or in the water polo pool, not in academics. If only. There''s just too much emphasis in high school on grades, success, money, the future. It''s killing my dreams. I used to fantasize about EVERYTHING. About traveling, and adventures, and possibilities, and the future! I want to imagine greatness in life.
But when you''re disillusioned with how life is, how it has treated you--and you don''t feel like anything great is going to come your way ever--you stop imagining. That''s what''s happened to me. My fantasies have been erased--replaced with the mundane things in life, who I''m going to eat lunch with the next day, what I''m going to eat so I don''t keep gaining weight, how I''m going to get through all the school commitments hanging over my head. In order to fantasize about exciting opportunities, you have to think, in some small part of your heart or mind, that you deserve these things. I''d like to think I do. But this world has so many problems--death, disease, natural disasters, human cruelty, animal cruelty, racism--why should I get what I want? I also just want to be a kid again. I moved out of childhood the day I graduated from middle school, and I keep looking back. College is looming large, but I''m still stumbling over vague ambitions and goals, requirements, and standards, as school takes over our brains and we perform rote functions like embedding quotes, improving handwriting, studying for exams, taking standardized tests.
I don''t want high school to have just been about getting into college. Tuesday, August 4, 2009 I know this might sound really dramatic, but I feel like the threads of my life are unraveling and I''m standing here helpless, watching it happen, not being able to do anything about it. I''m indecisive, sort of paralyzed emotionally, because I don''t trust my instincts, which my mom always says is a sign of insecurity. I think that''s what''s happening to me. I just don''t understand why. The funny thing is that people always call me the Golden Girl because they think I have it all. It bugs me because I so don''t. Happiness is a choice, I know that.
And I''m usually good at making the choice. But for some reason I can''t get there these days. I''ve got these internal hallucinations that are so haunting I can''t escape them--even when I close my eyes--because the images play on my eyelids as if projected on a movie screen. Maybe my current angst has nothing to do with my indecisiveness, my insecurities, school, or what other people think. Maybe I''m just mad that Carrie''s on the phone with Jay right now and she won''t tell me what they''re talking about. Maybe mad isn''t the right word at all. Maybe I really mean pestered or bothered or annoyed or suspicious or something else altogether. I don''t think of myself as the jealous type, but .
She says they''re not talking about me, but I don''t believe her, and even if it''s true, I still don''t like it. I just hate that no matter what''s going on with us, Jay always brings other people into it, which means other people know more than I do about my relationship. I also hate it when Jay expresses his feelings to me, so I guess I''m just hoping that he doesn''t have feelings, which is kind of too much to ask for. I don''t know, something about us doesn''t feel right. It used to, but now I don''t get excited to talk to him, I don''t get excited when he texts me, I wouldn''t rather see him than any of my other friends, and I don''t particularly love kissing him. It''s not bad, I just don''t feel any passion. This could be just me resisting a relationship and being screwed up, and I don''t want to regret it later if I push him away because I''m scared. Maybe I''m just more of a noncommittal type of person.
I really don''t like to be tied down to anything. I just get so mad at myself because I''ve been saying that I wanted a boyfriend for sooo long, but now that I finally have the opportunity, I push it away. What''s that about? Saturday, August 8, 2009 Still trying to figure out what I want. The problem is that I don''t know myself anymore. I need to figure out who I am before I can know what I want. I love to read, but I don''t usually finish entire books, because I''ll pick one up, then get distracted by another one that I want to read and start that one. I don''t finish books because I like books too much . that''s kind of ironic.
Right now, I''m reading The Idiot by some Russian guy with a ridiculously long last name. My favorite books are The Clan of the Cave Bear, Catch-22, and White Teeth. I love laughing. Duh. It''s the only thing that can save me from boredom, sadness, anger, annoyance . when I laugh really hard, I am completely silent, but you can see my body convulsing. It''s really strange. When I''m bored, I don''t watch TV.
I either read Wikihow (You know you secretly want to learn how to make circular bubbles while diving, make a shrimp out of a plastic straw, or attach a garden hose to a kitchen faucet!), read song lyrics, or stare at the ceiling. Just kidding, except for the first two. I find pretentious teachers really amusing. Although I have to say, most of the teachers I''ve had in high school have been amazingly understanding and helpful. I miss a lot of school. I''m not sure what people think about that. But it''s hilarious how even though I have only been to chemistry eight times this year, my teacher still reads my name on the absent list every day. I should be on a list when I go, not when I miss.
I can talk for a really long time if I want to (pretty obvious by how long this entry is). I guess I have a lot to say, unless you''re talking about the economy, chemistry, or football. In that case I shut up pretty quick because I don''t care. None of my closest friends have names longer than one syllable. I mean technically they do, but I get rid of those names in my head and give them one-syllable names. Same thing with my family, example, Micah is Bridge. I call my dad Pidge and people always think I''m calling him bitch when I talk to him, which I would never do. I''m really nostalgic.
I love to lie on my bed with a cup of tea and look at childhood stuff--pictures, books, letters, TV shows, etc. Doug was always my favorite TV show, Harry Potter my favorite book series. I don''t like the number twenty-one. The drinking age should be twenty (or eighteen). I don''t like any odd numbers except for nine. They''re incomplete, and I like things in pairs. I get these random ideas, which at the time they come to me seem brilliant, and then I think about it after and realize they''re really dumb. I was going to start a company that sells handmade shell jewelry and extra-long jeans (thirty-seven-inch inseam to be precise, for other tall hard-to-find-jeans-for people like me).
This is actually really stupid because those two things have nothing to do with each other, but I wouldn''t want to sell anything else, and I have no business experience, and no interest in finances. This all means I would suck at having a business! I hate having political or religious debates because I always think the people who don''t agree with me are insane and I don''t want my beliefs to disrupt my friendships. I usually feel very stron.