My parents sent me a text message on the second day of camp informing me that they are divorcing. It was a bit of an unpleasant shock made worse by the fact that I was informed in such an impersonal way and that many of my friends knew before I did. I wish my parents well in their seperate lives. I especially hope that my mother doesn't end up relapsing in her depression and locked in the mental health center again.

My birthday was rather strained this year. It's sefish to complain. Birthdays are really enjoyable only for children. Still, it might have been nice if my family had done something other than fight and send me to the store with instructions to chose my own gifts. All I really wanted was the full score and libretto to Sondheim's masterpiece Into the Woods. Unfortunately they didn't pick up on my not-so-subtle hints I had been dropping for several months and they were unable to order it. And we were in Charlottetown at the time where they have a population of 30,000. I checked the music store only to discover that I already owned every vocal book they had. On the day of my actual birthday I was working at camp. We had our town night the day before and they refused to serve me even though it was hours before I was legal and cerfew was at midnight. The rest of the staff was kind enough to protest on my behalf, but the waiters would hear none of it. They did however bring me what I'm sure was a delicious piece of brownie cake, but I was unable to find out as I am lactose-intolerant. During rehearsal on the actual day, my little brother who was attending as a camper tried to sing happy birthday to me, but the faculty told him to be quiet. I think I fell asleep still crying over everything that had happened lately. 

It seems terribly selfish since it was nobody's fault that my world is torn at the stitches. They all did their best. And it's just a birthday. Why should anyone celebrate the day I came into existence anyway? There are more important things. I am needed. I need to take care of my younger siblings and be a parent for them yet again. I need to care for my own parents as they work out their lives. At camp I needed to care for the young girls who were living in my cabin. I need to care for my friends who each struggle with their own problems and lives. As for myself? My problems are my own. I don't like to share them. When problems are shared, just like the word implies, their responsibility is split. There is no need for anyone else to take on my own burden. Besides, things will get better and then there will be no need.