February 1990

Who needs friends? I'm happiest alone. It's a comfort to believe in God. It helps a great deal. My life would be so bad if I didn't believe. I don't want to say my life would be "worse" because that would be ungrateful.

I need help. I'm thinking of getting counseling. I don't want to live this way. I want to forget mom. I want to forget me. I want to scream and break things. I'm not happy with who I really am.

I have to learn to love myself. Amazingly enough sometimes I do. I wore all black today. I like black.

Received a letter from Eli in Norway.

Intense headaches.

Ed called. Then somehow I ended up at his house. Something weird happened. You can guess it. I asked him to stop half way. It felt good but it also hurt. Why do I do this to myself? I'm not sure if I really wanted to have sex or not. Afterward I went over to Tracy's. Lisa was there. I told her what happened earlier and she said that I shouldn't abuse myself like that.

I can't stop thinking about what we did yesterday. I hate Sundays. I was doing homework when I looked up and noticed dad's sad, drunk face. I hated him for it. We fought. Nelson Mandela was freed today!

In junior high school I hated having to change in the locker room. I was fat and the others made fun of me and called me "fatso". I think I'm still fat. If I could lose some weight. God, so much to think and worry about. Maybe I like it all.

Today in English I started laughing imagining myself on my back with my legs up in the air. It's cold, rainy, and icy.

Mom called crying. Anjel is dying. Tracy's alcoholic father reminds me of my own in a sad way. When I lay in bed tonight I said to myself, 'Same old bed, same old covers, same old, walls, same old darkness…'

In the cab something hit me, some kind of a revelation. It was weird. It was like a message from God that just popped into my head. I thought to myself, I'm going to be happy, someday. And I smiled. Outside the streets looked terrible, slushy and icy.

Tracy was trying to find someone with a car and kept calling every five minutes. I had to ask her to stop because dad was getting upset. He was drinking. So, she told me to just come over. But before I could get away a fight blew up. Dad started bitching about how terrible my friends are. Then we dragged his drinking and mom into it. I yelled so hard my throat burned. I totally protected mom. I don't know if I should have bothered. I hate these mixed feelings I have about her. I threw the phone against a wall and ran outside. Lit a cigarette and started walking to Tracy's. There the two of us sat upstairs and talked. She told me that her parents really like me. That made me feel good. She also said that besides her fiancé, Seamus, I am her best friend. That made me feel good, too. Lisa and Brandon came by and brought beer. We had to sneak it upstairs past Tracy's parents.

Anjel died at four in the morning. Mom said that Anjel had cried when she gave her my message that I loved her very much. I remember how much Anjel loved us when we were little children in Iran. She didn't have her own and poured all her love into us. And how beautiful she was. Blue-eyed with black hair. Gorgeous. And young. Always laughing. I got chills when I thought about her body cold and naked at the coroner's. Why couldn't our bodies disappear with our ill souls?

They say going through tough things in life builds character. I hope so. Everything in this journal is my secret. Mine alone. At Reza's I asked an American woman to dance with me, but she said she was too drunk.

Rachel and I went to Heartland Café for coffee and talked for three hours. I told her I wanted my mother to be more honest with me, show some emotion. I know she's keeping all the hurt inside. I want her to scream and yell at me for leaving her. I want her to slap and hit me. I just want her to get it all out, instead of in little hurtful trickles. On the drive home the cab driver asked if I was Greek or Assyrian. We talked for some time. He was cool.

Violent headaches. Melisa came over and we watched movies. We were sleeping on the living room floor when we just started making out. We felt like naughty children. Then we slept.