Non-rhetorical questions

Hello boy,

I'm little bit of a grumpy bum today. Well I was more sad actually, and then that gives me a short fuse.

I showed my Mum my films. It was depressing. First of all it was depressing because I have been home for more than three weeks now and last night was the first time any person at all, in my family or out of it, has expressed any interest whatsoever in seeing any of my work. Great, my family doesn't give a crap. Anyway, finally Mum requested to see my films, so today I showed her. They're crap, and I know it, and she gave me her opinion, which was essentially that they were crap (although she tried to make out like it wasn't my fault, although all of the things she pointed out actually were).

I don't know why but at school I beg teachers and peers for comments and criticisms, but from her I just can't take it. Even that time when I showed you two of my films (by the way, there are two more that you haven't seen) and you said that they were good but that you knew I could do better it was kind of hard to take, although at least your statements were positive and supportive. Why is it so hard to take the criticisms of others?

I think the problem is that I feel like you, and Mum to a much greater extent, are outsiders in the process. There have been times when you have been closely involved with some phases of my preparation, so it's not as bad to hear your comments. You, at least, have some idea of what it is I actually do. But Mum is completely outside the process, so showing her my films makes me feel completely and utterly vulnerable. I am exposed. All I have to show for my blood, sweat, tears, no sleep, stress, brainstorming and hours is the end product, and what is more, the end product is, well...shite. The films I am making are absolute rubbish, and I can't hack a negative comment. What if one day I really do get to make a feature film? There is no doubt that there will be some critics who don't like it, even if the majority do (which, at present, seems unlikely). How will I cope with a negative review? Maybe I will have grown a thick skin by that time, but it doesn't seem very probable.

What am I doing, Stefan? Honestly? I am twenty years old and highly intelligent, yet I am pursuing the study of a thing that I am actually bad at, and even planning to turn it into a career! Why haven't I pursued something I'm good at? I'm crazy! I must be.

On a completely different subject, my Dad just walked into the room and told me, "I think Mum and I have done something wrong in the way we brought you up.

I said, "Why is that?"

"You're lazy."

What a lovely end to the day.

Stefan, I am lost. I am studying something I am bad at, and that I'm never going to have a career in. My family... I don't even know where to start. I know one thing. This is not home. But where is home? There have been times when I have caught myself referring to New Zealand as "home" since I have been here, but the truth is that I didn't feel like it was home while I was there, did I? So if home isn't in the house I spent 19 years of my life in, with the family who raised me, and if home isn't the place that I travelled to to learn how to take care of myself, where the fuck is it? No matter where I am, it seems that home is somewhere else. It's at the end of the rainbow. It's a place I will always be reaching for but never touch.

There have been times when I have felt like I was home. Some of the times when you have cuddled me, or even just smiled at me, I have felt like I was home. Perhaps the reason I'm always begging you for cuddles is because I'm desparate to find that feeling again.

What is a home? For most people home is a person, or a family, or a place. All of these things exist outside the body though, and that makes them vulnerable and out of your immediate control. I really wish I could create the feeling of home inside myself - fully inside myself - and then I could guard it with my life and carry it with me always. I may be wrong but I get the sense that that is what you have tried to achieve. The ability to feel fulfilled by yourself, and yourself alone? It sounds wonderful in a way. To be independent. To feel confident and comfortable in yourself always. To be the guardian of your own peace of mind. Yet at the same time... I can't help but think that it's a lonely way to live life, and that maybe if I master it I will miss out on something magnificent. Surely our ability trust in and rely on other people, and to give and take fully, is one of the most special parts of the human experience?

It's hard to live with my family again. Even as I write I am devising ways to get out of here. In the past I always tried to be smart, and tactful. I knew when to keep my mouth shut. I knew how far was too far. I tried to be a perfect teenager. Basically, I tip-toed around because I was desparate not to get kicked out of home. I thought it would be the end of the world, and the end of me. I thought that if I got kicked out then I would turn into a poor, hopeless bum, and would never have the chance to learn and explore my talents because I would always be trying to desparately scrape together the rent. The reason I was so afraid of getting kicked out was because my older brother got kicked out multiple times when I was younger, and so it seemed a very real possibility for me too. He and my Dad used to fight like dogs. They would get into regular screaming matches and the occasional punch-on. We used to have a lot of cracked walls in our house from their fights. It was horrible, and I never wanted to go the same way so I was careful. No matter how angry I would get (because there were times when I lost my temper, of course) I was always acutely aware of what I said. There were things that could just never come out of my mouth.

Now I've lived out of home and I've found out how normal it is, and how it's not the end of the world. I know that I can make the money for rent, and I can feed myself three times a day, and I can wash my clothes. And now that I know this I'm no longer terrified of getting kicked out. This is a problem. The dam wall has become thinner, and threatens to burst at any moment. There are so many times and so many things that I just want to scream. I will snap, any day now, and I'll get kicked out. I don't want it, but... it really wouldn't be that bad. I might even be happier, I don't know. How can I get back the strength to hold my tongue now that I am not bonded by fear??? I have no idea.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the day.

And now, because it's Christmas Eve, I shall instantly cheer up and say I hope you have a wonderful night tonight. I won't wish you a merry Christmas for tomorrow because I have no doubt that I will be unable to resist writing to you again :-)

I love you.

Lily

P.S. My Dad has now started to watch my films. Wish me luck.