Tragedy

She once said to me that the greatest tragedy of her life was that nothing had ever happened to her. It only took a few short years for all of that to unravel.

She was the perfect girl. I mean straight A's, pretty, healthy, and active in chorus. Her only vice was loving Phantom of the Opera and other musicals a bit too much.

When I was sick and away from school for months on end she was one of the few friends who bothered to keep in touch with me. And now that she is in her hour of need I wish I could be there for her, but the problem is I don't think that girl exists anymore.

I made friends with her in middle school and she was the fun quirky musical theater nerd. For the past few years our only communication has been though lj posts. I wasn't there when the change happened. When she went from all American girl to someone drifting in and out of mental hospitals. From straight A's to drug addiction, and sex addiction, pulling out her hair by the handfulls, harming herself and being violent towards others.

At first I thought it was kind of cool how she kept a details account of her first change. When she got to college and would write pages worth of information about what it was like to be on acid. But her journals have just been getting more and more disturbing as the years have gone by. And yes she is getting professional help

Her most recent entry shocked and horrified me. About her violent fantasies, posts about pulling out her hair by the handfull, about wandering the streets muttering obsintites at people. All of it covered with this icing of giving up, "Why pretend nothing is wrong." You don't have to pretend nothing is wrong, but I really recommend fighting against it, or if she can't do that then go to a place where she can get more help then she is getting right now.

Even though she is younger then I was I used to wish I was more like her. She was always so much smarter then I was, a better singer, more athletic. She had so much more potential then I ever did to make a difference in this world, and I don't know how she is going to bounce back from this sort of shit.

I wish I could be there for her, and help her or at least let her know that I still cared. To let her know how much she meant to me in those months where no one else bothered to visit. Right now she is several states away, and honestly beyond my help as a motherly type with an average knowledge of psychology.

I once told someone that if I haven't spent more than an hour of my life worrying about you, your probably not my friend. I have two tests tomorrow and all I can think about right now is how worried I am about this girl I haven't even seen in about 4 years.

I just hope things start getting better for her. I wish there was some way to convey this to her without sounding judgmental. I don't even know if there is anything besides a love of music left of the girl I was friends with.

tragedy fascinates us. why is that?