Current music:	"Overkill," Colin Hay
Entry tags:	carly, dad, kristy, logan, pete, the illness

Overkill
When Logan and I broke up the first time, back in eighth grade, I forgave him, and he corrected what he was doing wrong: he had stopped listening to me. He stopped listening, and I forgot that to be listened to, you have to speak up. People not listening to what I say, though, has stayed with me. He doesn't do it anymore, he wouldn't dare, but...others do.

I've been trying to put my finger on why I haven't been eager to spend time with Carly lately. At first I thought it was because of that trust issue that was raised in our conversation, but that wasn't right: I give time to everyone, and Carly is a great, amazing, talented person, why wouldn't I want to spend time with someone like that, even if it never deepened into a friendship because of her own reservations? And then I realized it as Shoshannah made me a bowl of Cream of Wheat for breakfast: it's soft like soup but not as messy as oatmeal. I don't like oatmeal right now, it's so ragged looking, you can't keep it even as you eat it. I was smoothing the surface of the food and I looked up, it hit me that I hadn't even had to say that I was struggling, everyone knew. At some point, my voice stopped being important. Everyone can see that I've lost weight. That I'm...my food habits have picked up, that I'm counting every bite. My voice has disappeared: if I said I was fine, everyone would ignore me, wouldn't they.

Carly ignored what I said. And I'm upset. I guess I didn't realize it until just now.

Carly asked if I was upset; I said no, truthfully. I was worried for her, because she was...embracing loneliness as a life philosophy, and I...I don't know, I was worried for her. But I told her honestly that I wasn't upset, and that night, I thought it over...anyway, I wasn't. Then she emailed me, and I told her that everything was fine, but already I was a little...unsettled. She emailed, she didn't come talk to me. She emailed and apologized, and no matter what her epiphanies, the email was an apology for something I told her deserved no apology. And if that wasn't enough, then I went to her house for another round of apology and acceptance, and that headache that had been rumbling like distant thunder just poured out, and suddenly, I was back in middle school, and Logan was ordering my food for me and Kristy was telling me what to do and Dad was inspecting my braids and jumper and tights for spic-and-span perfection before sending me out the door, all of them thinking they knew me and knew what was best for me, and I never told them different until one day I finally told Dad no, then I told Logan no, and then last year, I finally told Kristy no. Carly isn't them, and I know that, but in that moment as she apologized for a third time...in the briefest, palest of ways, she was.

Just like when I look at Pete now, I don't know if I can trust him. I've been so busy with Latin States and having to take minutes at so many committee meetings, I haven't seen him much, but...oh, this is something for another journal, but I guess it boils down to: if he had no problems, no qualms, at making Andi's situation with Bruce so public...what about me? I think everybody knows that I have problems with food, but no one says anything. Still, everyone knows. But no one knows about my depression, no one knows about the hospitals and why I was there except for a very small group, and Pete's in that group...I don't know if I can trust him. Did he tell Emily? Did he show her the email that Logan sent? Am I going to see a story about an over-achiever with a detached father, a girl whose chase for perfection leads her to swallow a whole bottle of pills? Or will she change how I tried: hanging? Slit her wrists? Will that make it different enough?

How can I trust Pete? Maybe he's kept my secret, maybe the only people he's talked to are ones who also know; maybe he doesn't talk about it at all. But the problem is, he breached my trust, and it's come rushing out like sand from a broken hourglass, and I don't know how to get it all back again, and even if I do, not all of it can be put back, there will always be sand scattered and gone. Pete doesn't know. He thinks we're fine; he probably thinks I need to slow down. That I need to eat. But at least he thinks we're fine.

I wonder if Carly thinks we're fine now, too. After all...she did apologize three times.