And once again I turn to the keys for support. I need help.

 

Seriously.

 

I asked a friend today if she could tell me what kind of friend I am and what kind of person I am. She couldn’t answer.

 

For once, I don’t blame her. It’s my fault this time.

 

People say I’m too quiet. Too shy. No one knows anything about me. I present a smiling mask for everyone to see.

 

Aaand I’m becoming self obsessed.

 

Who is Sara Hannigan? I mean really. Who is she? Could anyone tell me?

 

Maybe my parents. Maybe friends I had before I withdrew into my shell.

 

Let’s face it—I’ve had bad experiences. I’m a sucky judge of character. My friend in third grade thought nothing was funnier than tormenting me. My fifth grade friend decided it would be fun to stick a knife to her head and not respond when I tried to talk her out of it.

 

Oh, and then there was Sierra. She sent me a note telling me to stop following her, and then wouldn’t explain it.

 

Really, I don’t know if these are the reasons for my shyness. I don’t know if these are the reasons for my insecurities. I just know I have serious problems getting close to people.

 

Which is kind of sad at fourteen. This is supposed to be social hour, remember?

 

Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe I’m just freaking out over everything. I’m trying to take a step back and look at everything objectively.

 

Imagine that. It’s not working.

 

I also told the same friend that no one tries to get to know the shy me. That’s not true. She did. Another friend of hers did. Kids at school do.

 

I feel that I’ve become too prickly, and I don’t know how to fix it. My soul strength rests right here—in what you’re reading. This is the only place where I feel comfortable—on a computer with a password.  No one can see me here. Perfectly safe.

 

I don’t confide in anyone anymore. I’m afraid that people will just give me weird looks and walk away. Weird looks that say ‘what does that straight-A student with great parents and a lot of money have to worry about? She knows nothing of real problems’.

Right again. Maybe that’s why I’m having the problem. My problems aren’t real—I’ve got a lot going for me. I have friends…maybe no best friends, but friends. I’ve got a steady home life. Maybe my problem is that I kind of want to be social while being curled up in a ball at home.

 

Sad to say, that’s the worst of it.

 

I told you—I don’t have any real problems. No one’s dying. I have no stories or advice to offer—I kind of gave up on giving advice after I realized that it was useless. Only people with experience can give advice, and I, sadly, am in a bubble. A thin one now, but a bubble. It didn’t help when my friend tried to commit suicide on my watch.

 

A thin hurt now, but still there.

 

Whenever I release information to my friends, I just do it in blurts when I can’t take it anymore.

 

I’m not a good person. That friend who tried to commit suicide? She tried to keep in touch, but I couldn’t take it any more. I’ve fallen out of touch with all but the more persistent friends. I just don’t want to be hurt again. I do well with casual friends, but whenever I want to go deeper, they just want to be casual. And anyone who wants to be best-friend status has to go through hell, at which point they probably just want to run away. I want to run away. I want to be simple again.

 

The last two years I spent at St. Joseph’s did a lot of damage….but, I wonder—was it my fault? Was it this one-sided me what made me so universally ignored?

 

I think that’s worse than the other theory that I just didn’t fit in…but, maybe I’m just overthinking things. Maybe I should just withdraw until I’m ready to deal with people again.

 

Until I’m sure of who I am.

 

Night.

I don’t get people sometimes.

 

Okay, just as a warning—I’m in a bad mood. I’ve had a weekend with no private time, constant movement, and tons of social stuff. And tomorrow, I have to go to school. And the next weekend, I still don’t get any time for me.

 

Don’t get me wrong—I love my friends, even if they aren’t too big on pressuring something out of them when all they really want to do is scream. Even if a couple of them don’t particularly help me with a bad mood by telling me it’s making them upset.

 

Do I do that to them after five minutes? I certainly hope not!

 

I’m stressed, and it’s suddenly ‘back away from Sara’. It’s not—‘let’s make her feel better, or ‘wonder if that’s all that’s up’. Nope. God forbid it could be that simple.

 

I wish they could get that I’m like them—I need to talk. I need to explain. But no. I’m too honest to ever lie about something like that. Of course, I’m different in that, when I want to talk, I don’t want to burden them, and so shut up.

 

I’m off-track.

 

They treat me as if I’m some god—like I need to be pleased at all times. I didn’t think I was that picky. Maybe I’m wrong. I like them for who they are—I don’t care if aunts or grandparents are coming over—I don’t care if they’re hyper all the time. I like them for who they are. But, at the same timer, god forbids that I could ever be upset. Instantly everything’s in chaos, and they seem to avoid me like a plague.

 

Do I do that to them?

 

This is why I don’t tell them that I think I should be a nun because I have never really experienced pure attraction for anyone. This is why I don’t tell them that I’m wondering if I’ll ever be a writer. This is why I never mention my dad’s obsession with me being a singer. Will they get it? Will I be knocked off of that precious pedestal that I never wanted, nor intentionally got? I’m a human being, and I’m not perfect. I’m not a saint—I have my limits of tolerance, but I’m so glad that I hide it so well. Not. People say how great I am. I’m not great! I’m fourteen—I hate school and homework, but sure, I do it. I work hard, but mostly ‘cause I can’t picture it being another way. I’m good at writing ‘cause I wanted to be, and as for math and stuff…I only study, if even, for a few minutes, so I don’t know why I’m good.

 

But can’t I just be Sara again—the girl in the corner? The girl who’s not a saint?

 

Probably not.

Time goes on, and things change, but why is it that we cn't maintain anything that has to do with peace? Is there something about it that we just can't handle? Do we need conflict at all times in order to live?

 

I wish we didn't.

 

Look at the most famous novels are about! War and what it causes! But instead of looking at that moral, people go looking at the religious meaning. Like the Bible! Jesus preaches to love one's neighbor, but instead, some people think that it's a reason to clear the Holy World. And I doubt the Quar'an tells people to kill each other, either. Then again, is it any of our business? Should we really be letting their problems work themselves out? No one interfered in our war against the English, and whenever other nations interfere, it ends badly. Example? WWWI, maybe? Caused by alliances?

 

I know it sounds harsh, but...it's true! We've gone overseas to solve problems, but we still have homeless on our streets! Because of the war, the magnificent city of New Orleans was left in shambles! Because of stupid government procedure, and National--note that it's not international--Guardsmen have all been sent overseas! It's not right!

 

Our way of life is no better than anyone else's. Look at us! We moved all our jobs overseas because the labor is cheaper. And we say we're done with slavery. Meanwhile people here have to get a college degree to get a good job, when most of them can't afford to go to college!

 

....I'm done now. Sorry if I offended anyone.

Can I do nothing right when it comes to instruments?

 

First, it's I don't practice enough. Then, it's you don't practice long enough. Then: "I tune the violin and you play it for thirty seconds!"

 

I never asked for you to tune the freakin' violin! I did it without being told. Why the hell isn't that good enough?

 

"You have to learn an instrument."

 

Now:

 

 

"You aren't taking lessons anymore."

 

MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

 

My friend yelled at me for not being able to talk. Two people who I really like to talk to had to get off because I had to play the violin. Usually, I don't mind, but in this case, I was told I had to quit. I finally find an instrument I like, and I had to quit.

 

Now? Oh, I'm still mad. I have violin lessons, but I'm still mad. Furious, actually. Afraid to go down stairs because I might rip someone's head off.

 

Oh, yeah, you tuned the violin, and I am grateful. I finished practicing all the music that I had, and it wasn't good enough!

 

Mom says play for ten minutes. Dad, for thirty.

 

Oh, I wonder why I haven't stuck to any instruments for more than two years.

 

It's a lose-lose situation. When it comes to comparing me to Kevin, I'm always the goody-two-shoes. When it comes to instruments, I'm the bad child who can't do anything right.

 

I'm sick of it.

You know how many days we've had at home for this two-week vacation?

 

About three.

 

Dad recently said 'our vacation is coming to a close'. What vacation, may I ask? You call driving around, and doing most things for others a vacation? I feel like I just left school!

 

Want to know how many Christmas decorations we have up? I think I counted two, not including the Christmas lights we've had up for a year now.

 

I wasn't prepared for the holidays. Heck, I wasn't prepared for vacation. And I'm certainly not prepared for school.

 

We don't even have a friken Christmas tree! And that's one of the basics....

 

I just feel like I want to scream. I feel like I'm just prepared to upend my life once again and give it a good shake. Why can't things be back to normal?

 

Oh, and for those of you who know that I've spent most of the day on the internet and playing the neopets game, I would like to point out the suitcases in the same room that are still fully packed.

 

I think we're still waiting to go. Just waiting for a call. I can't even take being hectic today. Its like I'm....so accursedly tense. I can't handle anything. I'm just waiting to jump up...

 

But I've said that already, haven't I?

 

I like peace. I like quiet. I like my sanity. This vacation, I haven't had peace. My quiet was when I was alone. And my sanity? That went away two months ago.

 

My dad suggested taking away the internet and games tommorrow, because that's what my brother and I have been using all day. *points outside to pouring rain* He suggested we read. Okay, I can manage that...for four hours. A day is a bit much. And what else is there to do? You can't go play in the rain....

 

That's a completely different subject; one that I shouldn't go into. Anyways, I am going to go take a bath and...whaddya know; read! Maybe then I'll get my peace, my quiet, and my sanity back...

 

Talk to you later...

Guesss what? Its a Sara rant. Read, enjoy, sympathize. Thank you.

 

But first. *Screams at top of lungs*

 

Much better. I've been way too emotional lately...my cycle'll probably come soon...

 

Anyways. On with the rant. This is the one part of myself that bugs me; I listen to other people's problems, but I can't ever seem to tell anyone my problems. Partially because I'm afraid they'll think I'm a big cry-baby. Which I am, I guess.

 

God. I am pitiful and too similar to Henuki for my own good.

 

The topic of today's rant is driving and shopping. The two things I can safely say I hate. Why? Because we never stop doing EITHER OF THEM! We're always shopping for electronics, and we are always DRIVING! I spend HALF OF MY LIFE IN THE STUPID CAR!!

God dang it. I'm crying. Again. I need to get myself under control....this is really pitiful. Any little things sets me off recently...including knee problems. Did you know I had to relearn how to walk and run? Oh, and I had to relearn how to handwrite three times. I can't do anything right the first time, apparently.

 

But seriously, I hate the car. If we don't go someplace - and we usually do - I spend two hours a day in it. If we go somplace, I can spend four- like today.

 

Why does Dad like shopping so much? One day, we spent six hours in one stupid store. And then he yelled at us for playing a game. I can't even walk into Target, Frys, the Discovery Store, Circuit City, Best Buy, and other electronic stores without shuddering. Heck, I can't even walk into grocery stores because I know we are going to stay in there forever. With nothing to do. And being yelled at every five minutes for playing with my brother.

 

And I'm crying again. Even though I am being /way/ too dramatic. I should stop now...talk to you later I guess...

 

Sadly, this is the one time this didn't help at all.

 

Your one and only crying girl,

Sara