Sometimes reality can be so unbearably painful.

I think that's why my dreams are so vivid. So detailed. Episodic. Because if I could, I would choose not to live in reality. I would live in my dreams. Because there I am a movie star. A scientist. A medieval warrior. But my reality is a girl who works too much at something she's not going to do, and doesn't work at all to further her dreams. I was going to make a demo cd this week, but because my new job (which, actually, I do love. And if I didn't want to act, I could do this for the rest of my life) demands so much of my time, and I'm still at the camera store, my one day off last week (the first since the beginning of the month, I might add) was filled with errands I had to run.

And there's much irony to my last post. She was going to call me when she got in. That was Sunday night. And there was no call. But, like the John's Dad situation, I knew something was wrong. I just knew. So I waited. Until she called me Thursday night. Her grandmother had died. And you have no idea how close this woman is to her family. Her mother and grandmother are just about the most important things in her life. I almost erased the word "things" to replace with "people", but that would have been too exclusive. And her mom's sister had just died suddenly a couple of months ago. So I drove down there, not knowing what to do, wanting to make everything better, feeling completely helpless because I can't. So many things. And eventually the pain will fade. And eventually you'll be able to say things like, "The music sucked, of course." But for now, it will never end. And all I can do is be here. For whenever she needs me. I'll be here in the middle of the night if she gets sad and wants to talk. I'll be here if she just can't be strong for her mother any more. But she's a very private person and maybe she won't take my offer. But it will always stand.

Otto died. I saw him on the way to my parent's. And on the way home tonight, I killed a raccoon. I cried for a long time. It's the second animal I've ever hit. The first one, ironically, was an opossum. I was hysterical. Almost like I'd killed a human being. I took one of god's creatures off the earth. Not intentionally. There was nothing I could do. They both just ran out so fast. But I really felt like I committed a crime against god. I don't go to church. But I am very spiritual, I just never talk about it. Because it's not a Christian thing. I once had a friend tell me I should date a certain guy. "Why?" "Because you're both atheists." That was her logic. How illogical. First of all, that's no reason to date a person. Secondly, I may not believe in the god she does, I may not practice the way she does, but I have a very spiritual connection to a higher power. So, that frustrated me. Anyway, I was sad about Otto and very upset about my murder.

Tonight I saw "A Beautiful Mind" with my mother. And so many things I've tried to forget came back. Mr. Nash is a paranoid schizophrenic who was eventually hospitalized and given shock treatment. And his wife stayed with him the whole time. She stood by his side and made some really tough decisions. And I saw my parents. My mom has depression. When I was in the seventh grade, it was really bad. And she was hospitalized for a month. And almost had shock treatment. Her roommate did. She leaned over during that scene to tell me. And that's reality. That's something I've tried to forget for a long time. And my parents never knew how much that effected me until we were arguing a few years ago. And I don't remember what it was about, but I remember finally telling them how scared I was. How they would never understand what it was like to be in the seventh grade and hold your crying mother and tell her it's all right, we all love you, we would never want you dead. And she would want to die. And I dealt with that. And put it behind me. But watching this movie brought it back. We all survived. My father stood by her the entire time, and made some really tough decisions. And they got through it together. I want someone to love me like that. I love my parents very much, and have an incredibly amount of respect for them. But sometimes I want to live in my fantasy world. And not think about how scared I was. And angry. And confused. And no one will ever really know. Really understand. And that's okay. Because we deal and move on. We move on. Move. On.

But sometimes life can be so unbearably painful.