19 October 2005

Thoughts Dump

I hate not being able to help my friends. Currently a very good friend of mine, one of the first I made in college, seems to be going through a rough spot, as described to me by my other first friends in college. Let's call him...Stan. I personally have not witnessed any alterations in behavior, but they are there, according to these friends. I'm not questioning their accounts but it all seems so...odd because it goes against everything I ever thought his character was. Frankly, they are scared of Stan. I don't know how to help. I don't want to say anything about it to Stan because he'd just deny it, most likely, or even exhibit the same behavior that was described to me...and frankly, I'd rather not know the extent of the change. But how can I help if I don't say anything? Do I just act like I always do? Stan apparently has refused to meet with anyone who'd be able to help. This is why I'm not a psych major.
And ever since this transformation was described to me, I can't stop thinking about it. I don't know if it's worry or what, but I can't keep myself busy enough to not think about it. I'm too far ahead in my reading for classes...no hard reading or projects to keep me occupied. And it's hard, it's really hard. And I'm getting tired of it. I don't envy my other friends at all, for they've known about it, obviously, a lot longer than I have. I'm not in the habit of exhibiting to the world my private thoughts, but maybe if I put them down in this context they will go away. And I can't talk about it with anyone. I don't want to break their trust, I don't want to burden them any further, and I sure as heck can't talk about it to Stan. And frankly, they're the friends who are the great listeners.
The whole situation completely bites, if you'll forgive the lack of swearing. I hate not knowing what to do. And I really wish something else was going on. I suppose I could always start worrying about the wretched storm going by the name of Wilma that's headed for Florida, and thus my family and friends back home. It would of course be that the worst storm of the year, worse than Katrina and Rita, is heading for Florida. And we thought we'd scrape by without one this year after being stuck with four of the bloody things last year. C'est la vie, I suppose. Murphy's Law. Fate. Wrath from the whatever high atop the thing.