07/10/2002
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useless and insane ramblings |
07/10/2002 |
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letting dad and michele foot the bill for the whole vacation has hit a nerve. one of those 'why now' things. 17 years ago mum was keeping a notebook detailing my every offense and making me fully aware of every cent spent they spent on doctors and hospitals for me. there were nights in that bedroom i couldn't bring myself to sleep on the bed because the sense of worthlessness was so overwhelming, i couldn't believe i even deserved to sleep on their furniture. the night that preceded the first stay in dominion was one of those nights. i'd sat in a corner scratching my arm with a razor blade. it's weird, but i know it was me because it hurt and i couldn't do more than make small marks with the blade. reese never felt it... i intentionally caught every drop of blood on a towel. i had always been so careful not to leave a mess. this time i wanted them to see the blood. they didn't believe it was anything more than deceitful melodrama. god how mum loved those words. deceitful little sod was one of her favorites. i didn't expect it would be Zac who found the blood. when i left the room, i locked the door. i had wanted only mum to go in. to this day i feel guilty for Zac's terror and certainty that i was dead. i shouldn't. mum let him unlock that door. mum knew i was not answering her knocks. she let him, a 7 year old, walk in and find the room in the state i had left it. when i had finished cutting, i stood up and went around my room pulling every belonging out of drawers and off shelves onto the floor. i didn't deserve anything from these people and they could have it all back. i don't know how to explain that feeling of being somewhere between blinding rage and sheer hopelessness. i hated my parents. hated myself. i hated god for bringing me into this world to live thru all i'd lived thru... alone. trashing my room was done with a quiet, almost careful manner. being quiet was necessary so as not to wake the parents or the brother and sister whose room was just on the other side of my bedroom wall. i was careful not to break anything, for even tho i did not deserve these things, i cared about them. there was also the knowledge that anything i broke would be another arrow for my mother to throw. there was not one more blow from her, physically or mentally, i was able to take by then. i remember so little after locking the door and sneaking out the front door of the house. did i have my purse and journal? i must have. they were like a security blanket. i remember walking down the road that began directly across from the house then took the shortcut to... what was the name of that road? not sinclair... i took that road to brentsville and sat on the bridge over the run, knowing that even if i had the nerve to jump, it was not enough of a fall and the water too deep and calm. i was too strong a swimmer to let myself drown and that had always been one of my fears anyway. what happened that night? hitched a ride up 234 then walked to my old high school. actually, i only walked past it. i stopped at the 7-eleven and got a drink and a pack of cigarettes. the police found me after that. strange, mum must not have expected Z to find such a scene in my room. she already knew where i was by then. i don't remember what happened after being cornered by 3 police officers at the side of the road. did i go the PW hospital first? i must have because the razor scratches were almost healed when they strip searched me during my admission. time to lay down before the floodgates i'm unlocking here, burst open... |
