Chapter 20
Journal Entry for Thursday December 25, 1997
Christmas morning. This really brings back some memories, most of them painful ones.
I remember waking up at the crack of dawn when I was younger, just so I could open my presents early. Most of the time it didn't work, and mom/dad would just tell me to go back to bed for a couple of hours. I'd always do as they asked, though I never was able to sleep any more.
I can remember the times when grandma was here and she'd make her famous sticky buns for breakfast. (Usually she'd have to make another batch because Brad and Mark and I would get up in the middle of the night and eat some of them. I think dad would sometimes too).
Dad. Wow. This will definitely be different without dad. Even though we won't be doing any celebrating really, it will still seem odd not to have him around. Of course, it seems odd not to have him around every day.
We still haven't (and so obviously we won't) decorated the house or gotten a tree or done any of the other things that we as a society have managed to pile upon the birth of Christ. I mean, seriously, what does a pine tree have to do with Jesus Christ being born? I mean, he wasn't even born on December 25 to begin with! I swear, if some of the people who come up with all of these things had a brain in their head, they'd be downright dangerous. But enough of my ranting. (At least on this particular topic).
In all this excitement, I forgot to mention that I have a new notebook now for my journal. I have the old one hidden someplace. (Like I'm going to actually write down where I have it at. Ha! You're so funny! You really should consider doing stand up. You'd be funnier than Tim Allen and Robin Williams combined).
I wonder if maybe I should try to find something to eat before mom invades the kitchen with her wonderful, wonderful cooking techniques. At least that way I don't have to lie and say I'm not hungry and I don't have to starve.
I'll write more in a bit.
-Randy
25 Minutes Later
It'll be hard, but I'm going to attempt to write and eat at the same time. We don't have too terribly much up there to choose from, so I just grabbed a couple packages of crackers. (The individual serving sized ones, not a huge sized package), and I poured a glass of eggnog. Yeah, I know, a very healthy breakfast, but somewhat festive nonetheless.
I'm not sure if you've been able to tell, (and by you I mean my damn psychiatrist, of course), but I'm starting to get back to my normal self again. And let me tell you, it feels good. Don't get me wrong, I'm still not as happy as I was before…the…well, you know, and I really doubt I ever will be, but I'm certainly feeling better.
I was looking at some of my journal entries from the times when I was really doing bad, thinking about suicide, et cetera, and it honestly scares me to think that I wrote those damn things. I was reading those and thinking the entire time "this could not possibly have been me".
I'll still continue to refer to my damn psychiatrist as my damn psychiatrist though, because that's all the more I think of him. (Well, I'm not going to lie, it is).
Hmm. That's all I can think of right now, but I'll be sure to write more tonight when I'm "in bed".
-Randy
A/N: I'll have Randy's thoughts (no pun intended) from that evening posted in the next chapter.
I hope nobody minded the fact that nothing really happened in this chapter. It's just kind of a filler chapter. Well, that, and the story is called "Randy's Thoughts", not "Randy's Action/Angst/Drama/Trauma/Tragedy Filled Life", although that may be how it seems at times.
Please R&R, reviews make me so happy. I like the fact that people like the fact that I'm writing, which includes me writing that I like the fact that people like the fact that I'm still writing this story. (Try saying that 10 times fast).
-Yours truly, Randy Taylor