So last night I was reminded that this thing existed. Hopefully I won't have much use for it. I'm currently working on writing some things down for when I go to the doctor. Hopefully after the doctors visit I'll be almost like a Lilith 2.0.
It seems that I just get a little off during stress.

On a plus side, the other night Mutual friend A came over, began drawing and talking philosophically. It was odd, it gave me this vibe that I remember when I was younger.

As a teenager I surrounded myself with others who were obsessed with Art. It was more than just a pure obsession but something more dangerous. We would cut school and write manically while talking with eachother. We would drink and smoke and try our best to act like adults. It was actually pretty darn entertaining.

I miss it.

I miss this feeling that I'm around amazing people, maybe I should be less of a hermit?

The picture Mutual friend A drew I'm most likely going to frame and hang, as a reminder of the wonderfully creative people in my world.

Such a shame we backed down from living on a commune.

As is with these feelings I think I'm going to change the meaning of this journal. Instead of it being a place for my manic almost insane dribblings I think I'll use it as a way to collect my writing, a portfolio of sorts.

So I married my now husband. After a horrible case of wedding jitters. Constantly I was scared that it would be the end all of my life. It wasn't. In fact its a bit pleasant. I don't know if it was my self sabatouge or if it was just me being jittery as all hell.

We've made strides in our relationship since then, and have been addressing problems with our relationship.

I am making the begining steps of getting psychiatric help, but right now its nothing but talk.

I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I can't help but think that I cause a large amount of problems in the relationship due to me inaffective way of conversating with him. I do put him down alot, I'm not blameless in this relationship.

Lately the depression has been looming around my pretty little head, along with social paranoid thoughts.

I'm fucking up majorly and I know, but I can't stop it.

I'm hoping I can save enough money to go to a doctor, to be able to make a bit of progress and maybe have an effective diagnosis. One that doesn't give me drugs that give me uncontrollable shakes and may actually improve my life. I have fears, I have horrible fears.

I fear that I'll never make anything of myself in life due to the problems I have in my psyche.

I think I'm destined for greatness, its what I was told my entire life and it kills me to be working remedial jobs. And it'll kill me in twenty years when my coworking peers are 16 year olds.

I find myself rambling to him, trying to tell him to help me, just a little bit but without telling him something is wrong.

He's oblivious and I hate the fact that hes not inside of my head.

But there isn't much room in there for him anyways. I feel sorry for him he deserves more than me. He deserves nothing but the greatest woman on the face of the earth. And even medicated I can't be that.

I shouldn't have made the choice to go this long unmedicated, life would have been made easier if I would have just given in sooner. But I believed some of my moms bullshit. I believed that maybe I could conquer this on my own, or that maybe I was just melodramatic.

I like having this, no one reads it. And it feels so comfortable to be sitting next to him and him not look over my shoulder. I don't even think he's tempted to.

I think I made the right choice, I think I did. I hope I did. Dear god, I hope I did.

For him, I'd go running in the rain.

( Read more... )

1. Lets take two schizophrenics, shake them up real good and see the ooze that escapes, worst yet lets try to see if it can survive

3. Now let it sit in the petre dish known as south San Jose and abruptly throw her into the truck, filled with all of the families earthly belongings. Tell her that she is visiting grandfather for a while when in reality its a seperation and although she doesn't know this, she will only see her father 5 more times in her entire life. She never did look up at her mother with doe eyes later and tell her about the horrible dreams that she had thinking that if she was bad that her entire family would leave her.

2.Lets through the ooze in a totally appropriate childhood, lets stick it into a house where her father figure is an 80 year old dieing man, her second father figure her brother who is given the chore of beating her when shes bad because her mother can't bear to do it. Her mother, the one who shows her daughter the beautiful cherry tree and says " And thats the tree my mother used to make me pick branches off of so she could beat me." The mother who never really was a mother but simply an observer with witty remarks.

3. Lets see the effect that occurs when certain incidences happen in this form of a household. Lets see what happens when the girl breaks her arm and her mother tells her shes being a cry baby and its simply strained and waits THREE days to take her to the doctor. Lets see what happens when you take a guitar cord to her arm, so hard that welts form and she has to wear sweaters.Lets lock the child in the closet for an hour and then laugh because it was so funny that she craved attention so badly from you that she went in there willingly thinking it was a kids game.

4. Now lets fast forward and give her a brief glimpse of a close enough form of normalacy that she begins to excell in school.

5. Please, let it bubble awhile until it smells like adolesence and spill it into Sacramento.

6. At this point in the experiment the ooze will begin to show self destructive tendencies, realizing that she can never live up to the expectations that her batty mother has put upon her and lives in constant fear of her brother. Look folks not only does she puke on command, starve for days but she has successfully learned to cringe!

7. Wholla! our first success in the experiment she develops a drinking problem. Uh oh what is she doing now? Oh dear she seems to have somehow taken pills after that bottle of whiskey.

8. Due to the secrecy levels of the experiment, forbid the child from talking to the therepist..uh oh, the state needs her to see the psych, well then simply forbid her from disclosing ANYTHING about the family, and drill the saying of " Its our family, and they will just manipulate everything you say. Do you want to go to a mental institution? Do you want to get taken away?"

9. Now shake the ooze until it begins to fizz, mix it with prozak, vicoden, vallium, caffiene pills, sleeping pills, jim beam, zoloft you know..all those hip pills all the kids are taking for fun.

10. Uh oh, its just found out that the sperm donor has passed away, lets tell it sweet little lies.

11. Fast forward the experiment, lets exchange it for a synopsis. The results are severe drug problems, abandonment issues, clinical depression, eating disorders,seeks punishment, has dated a long line of professional criminals, tried to swallow emotions with sex..well frankly anything she can put in her, and lots of other fun things.


Kids, don't try this at home.

The life and times of Lilith.
Frustration, deprivation of sleep and a slight lost of sanity.


Woot.

How can my marriage be falling apart before I'm even married?
Good ol' little red flags are showing their ugly little head constantly.
Between all money being his money, between him trying to force me to be around his in laws he also finds time to ruin almost every single night for me.
He insults me and is certain everything is my fault.
He makes business decisions without consulting me, and I will not be married to a ghost.
Instead of I do, I'm thinking I don't.
I don't want to marry him and I'm not saying that because I hate him or because of the arguement but because if these are arguements now, they will be forever.

And do I really want to marry a man who calls me childish, points fingers at me and has temper tantrums? Lets not forget him defending his family. trying to drag me into submission and just over all just being negative for me.





I've really dug myself into a hole with this one.

The worlds moving so fast I think I'm getting motion sickness.
Another testiment on how much of a materialistic person I am..
Brians gone, he'll be gone for another 2 and a half weeks, and then I'll see him for a week and rinse, repeat.
I'm so alone.

Its 12 am again and I can't sleep. I can't do anything. All I can do is smoke, and smoke.
Its another ghost. I'm in love with someones dust that they leave behind as they run past.

All this so I can have the house, so I can have security that I won't move anywhere. And I give up him for that.

I love him, I miss him so much it feels like eons, it feels like a century. The scent of him is leaving his clothes and he's only been gone for half a week. I can't even remember what he feels like. Dear god, I love him.

One more year and we'll be married 29 years and we'll have the house paid for.
29 years of this, jesus christ i've condemned myself to a life of this.

What if I end up like all the other wives here?
Having kids just so I'm not alone anymore, cheating and developing hatred for their husbands.

Why can't I have my cake and eat it too?

Its like a long distance relationship..but he's not even that far..he's just too far in the ocean.

What have I done?

I knew it would be this way, I think thats why I went for the house. Its a reward.
At first I wouldn't let him go I told him that if he went I wouldn't be here when he came back. So I go for the house so I can see the end result ahead of time. I can't control what he wants to do with his life, all I can do is plead for him to have some consideration.

He wanted this job, he was flattered to get this job. 14 dollars an hour, a month ago and that was our salaries combined.
So I quit my job, I'm arranging things with a real estate agent and in a month and a half I'll be living in houma, in a beautiful 1800 sq ft house with three bedrooms, two baths and a beautiful black and white kitchen.

We can finally have that office, we can finally have that entertainment room.

Dear god, we can finally buy books without feeling guilty, knowing that our bookcases are out of room. I can finally have my courtyard, and my halloween decorations.

Dear god we'll be living in something bigger than 500 square feet.
1800 is going to feel so big, when I'm alone in the house.
Maybe too big.

My life is running around in endless circles.
This relationship seems to be running the same course as my last.

Today I check my limewire, and I find underage porn...12 year olds and worst...

Dear god.

Everythings crashing and I'm not about to pick up the jagged peices.
I'm on the edge of homelessness again, and why now? why does it have to be now?
When I close my eyes and dance I can feel like I'm flying like I'm floating to something beautiful.
But then I look in the mirror and I touch my face, making sure its mine.
Its turned disgusting. And I wonder why it is that Brian barely touches me, why everythings getting harder.
I have to fast to wash away my sins, these thoughts rushing through my eyes.

I need to try to make it so I can breath, so I can breath another day.

I find myself wanting more and more to hurt myself to make it so I can destroy what I have become and what is caught in this.
I'm beautiful, I'm unrestricted, and I can fly.

If it wasn't for the flesh.

I was hurricaned on, I think that was my last entry.

I just finally regained internet access, everything still feels awkward.

I feel like such a different person than I was just a few months ago.

I guess I was shallow.

I took comfort in too many of my worldly possessions.

I can't even find solace in my religious books anymore.

I work at burger king now, and I don't think I will be able to go to college for a few more years. Lifes awkward, I feel numb.

I shouldn't be crying over this still but I still do.

So many people think the hurricane was sent by god to wipe louisiana clean of the sinners.

But what was our sins?

How could we ever deserve this? Were we punished for having having waitressing jobs at places we couldn't afford to sit in let alone eat at? Were we punished because we were the birth place of jazz? Punished because no matter how many plagues and out breaks we remained resiliant?

Were my neighbors punished? The ones with the twin daughters? They used to sit on their porch braiding their childrens hair because despite air conditioning it was cooler outside than inside.

Yemaya is the loa of life and wisdom, she is also represented by water. This wasn't a cleansing, this was her trying to give us all a new start.

But I cling to my old life.

I consistantly sit there and wonder what I would be doing right now if the hurricane didn't hit.

I consistantly wonder when my mom will come down with a third world disease for remaining in the house in mid city with no heating or electricity.

I guess I wonder too much

Just a month ago I was debating on going to the saturn bar with Charlene, in reflection..I should have gone.

But I didn't know that in a week the saturn bar would no longer exist, that my house would be under 9 feet of water, all my pets dead and having everything that I knew to be real just thrown away.

I have two suitcases, more than alot of people have..I should be grateful but in another way this just confirms my belief that if christians are right and there is some big man in the sky, that he must be a sadist.

I was going to go to college, get a car, get a nice job in metarie...


Now I'm just wondering if I can ever do those things again.


And now with Hurricane Rita just floating by in the gult coast I wonder if she'll destroy the rubble of what was left of my normalicy.

I've seen pictures of my neighborhood, and I've heard the stories.

The smell of the dead, the spray paint marking the houses that have bodies and the remains of everything just layed around clumsingly by a hurricane.

I have nothing left, and I never thought of myself as a materialistic person.

me and 2 million other people are fighting for survival, and the government just doesn't really care.

Fema sends us hush money to pacify us.

I just want my life the way it was, and I know Fema cannot deliver that to me in an orange envelope.

Date:	2005-08-26 18:43
Subject:	woot
Security:	Public
Mood:	pissed off
Music:	Sex dwarf- dirty sanchez

So I've been living with Brian for about a month, and I'm really beginning to hate it.

I feel underappreciated. He doesn't give two shits when I buy him things that he needs ( cleaning stuff, glasses etc)

but the straw, oh the fucking straw...

Yesterday his dad called him to tell him he had a suspended license and that he needed to go to Houma to get it reinstated ( about 100 miles from here)

So he asks me if I will clean up his place a little to make him feel less stressed out, I agree.

Mistake A.

so his dad fixes his problem for him so he doesn't have to go to Houma, so he instead of spending time with me, decides it would be oh so much better to go play some stupid Magic the gathering tournament. So he goes to that, and he sees I am a little upset and he begins bitching to me about how he shouldn't need my permission for anything and he asked for approval. No, he just told me what he was going to do and I had no say.

So I tell him, its ok there is a really cool thing going down on bourbon street where there will be stilt workers, clowns and even a tiger in a cage ( its circus themed) and me and Charlene will just go there.

But he begs me not to.

And now he wonders why I'm not going to hang out with Charlene tonight.

There is nothing else to do in New Orleans but go bar hopping, and I've been forbidden to do that.

So screw it, I'm going to take a bath in the bathtub I fucking cleaned, and get shit faced here so when he comes home I'll be passed out.

The sex is even fucking weening, he began complaining of headaches and he bitches at me if anything of mine is out of place.

And yet he wants to get married in a FUCKING YEAR?

I'm beggining to feel like I hate him.

And hes begging pity from me, I'm sorry but if I'm expected to keep my head over water with everything thats happening to me, then he should be able to as well.


Ugh.

I can't even set up my fucking altars, and he doesn't want me to have my pet rat in here unless I get an aquarium for her...which I have no money for.

I don't really even know what to write, its such a long week.

Somehow I am back in Sacramento, I hate it but somehow it feels like I am walking on this mysterious line of past and present. This entire time I kept reverting to when I was 15.

I visited my fathers grave today, it was strange.

I wish I could live in Woodland again, its so beautiful. The sunflower fields are hidden in between corn fields. Nothing but green and yellow splotches littering the roads.

The old streets, tethered and torn. I recognize everything and suddenly this nostagia clogs my nose.

I want it back,

I want my old life.

I am so sick of this new life.

What fun is coke and alchohol when you feel so hollow?

Everyones gone down the same path, just different forms..different pavement.

Heroin addicts, drug dealers. Everyones mind is blown in one way or another.

I grit my teeth and lie, I don't drink...I get drunk.

I vomit up my mothers sins and collapse on brick sidewalks.

Right now I crave something, something exciting, another escape.

I'm running out of escapes.

How many more dangerous scenerios can I put myself into?

I talked to my mother today, I talked to my brother today...all while his pretty petite girlfriend sat there in astonishment.

A nearly empty jack daniels in the cabinet and a slurring brother, begging me to join in on the fight.

Apparently I'm melodramatic, wrapped in self pity, date men to piss off my mother and am an alcoholic. At least thats what my mom thinks.

She knows nothing because I've learned the only lesson in life you need to learn.

I learned how to swallow my emotions

Apparently my father was schizophrenic. No one really knows if he loved me or if he didn't.

So splintered, and I have no idea what genes I have hidden in me.

And my mother gets so angry she won't dare tell.

She would rather me just think one day we decided to change. And when we did he magically dissapeared. And everything was perfect.

Everything was perfect, we learned of his death, and everything was perfect.

I tried to kill myself, but everything was perfect.

I dated the worst of the worst and drank until I vomited bile. But everything was perfect.

My mom has a demon that whispers her all her insecurities, but he's perfect and she's perfect.

Everything is just so fucking perfect.

And how dare us, show any emotion other than perfection.

How dare us!

But yes, I want my old life.

I'll just return the coke, the booze, the pills, the sex, the vomit, my fiance and everything

Just to be 18 again.

Just for it to be

One year ago

I feel horrible. I'm inbetween moves again, everythings changing again.

I don't even know what to write, I wish the english language had more words.

Anonymity

I feel so anonomous I feel like I could drop off the face of the earth tommorow and no one would notice, and no one would care. I hate this feeling.

And then, there is the fiance issue.

He was supposedly going to move in when I move, now...I have no idea.

He has a new job where he lives, he wants to go to ITT which is located where he lives.

He really doesn't want to move in.

So how is a relationship supposed to grow when I can only see him once every two weeks?

I'll have a job soon and college, and he'll have a job and college. And with nearly 100 miles seperating us that leaves only weekends every two weeks.

I'm too old to have long distance relationships, I want to have something here with me, to let me know that even when the world changes that they will be a constant.

We hardly even talk anymore on the phone as it is, suddenly instead of seeing eachother at weeks of a time its turned into "well maybe wednesday, or thursday..can I schedual you in for friday? Oh and I have to leave monday and then maybe the week after next I can see you for three more days."

And how long does he honestly think my mom won't rent out the apartment or turn it into a hobby area? Its either get on the road now or never get on it.

And so after nearly 8 months, its now me debating that if his answer to a simple question is " maybe in six months" that that'll mean never and that I should see someone else.

Every relationship I have been in has been a total waste, and I was hoping this one wouldn't have been.

I just want to cut myself, I want to watch the blood, I want to take pills, I want to sleep for days on end so I can just lose my space in the world.

Its not that I want to die, I just want to dissapear.

I've already been deemed invisible anyways.

In two weeks I'm supposed to be in california, and I sit there pretending everything will be like it was, but I know it won't be.

Those people didn't even want to see me before I left, why do I imagine them dieing to see me now?

And the way I talked to them, they think I've become something glorious, which maybe in writing it seems like that, but its not. I'm just the same lost little girl who stood there in halls at 15.

Life is what you make of it, but how come I don't even feel like I made this life?

I like to believe I'm a good person, but if I am then why is it that these things happen?

Is this twisted Karma?

I shouldn't have police officers knocking on my door as reminders of a mistake I made nearly two years ago.

I shouldn't have to call a DA to tell them I can't show up for a court appearance.

I shouldn't have to worry when I'll be able to eat next.

I shouldn't have to worry if my fiance doesn't want to be with me anymore.

I shouldn't have to worry about alot of things,

But I do.

and I have all the weight on my shoulders and no one cares, and even if they do why should I just unload on them?

I hate police calling my house, I hate them trying to get me to snitch out an ex, I hate how the officer said " I was reading the IM conversations, are you ok? its seemed like you had a rough life."

If you think thats rough, just think of all thats happened in two years.

Lets just think of what my life has been filled with, drugs, being nearly raped, molested by a friend, beaten by a brother on a routine basis, being at deaths door, being threatened with knives, stabbing someone, running from cops, alcohol addiction at 15, depression, anxiety, not being allowed to finish high school, having to take care of a mother, wondering every single time I hear something that no one else hears if that means I'm schizophrenic like my mother.

Lately at night I hear whispering, like I used to hear two years ago, and I sit there and wonder if I'm having a schizophrenic episode.

I just hate this all.

So today I had to go down to the health clinic by Brians house to get ECP. Of course since this is a heavily religious breeder area the nurse told me I should begin taking a multivitamin so I can have healthy babies.
As I see it, you get 9 months to find fun and exciting ways to get rid of it.


But alas' today was riddled with the taste of sour dissapointment.

I finally get the ECP and I am about to leave but Brian is no where in sight and neither is his truck. After 20 minutes he comes back with the excuse that he needed to get something from his house. Smooth move Brian.

So Brian and I decide to watch movies, but no, instead he ends up on the phone talking loudly and telling me to turn off the movie so he can hear the guy on the phone. Fine, whatever.

So while I'm in a nausea induced haze, dizzy and feeling like absolute shit Brian decides to run errands, and leave me in the house alone for 5 hours. During in which time I can sit and wonder if I'm going to have a horrific reaction to the plan B that I have never taken before and if I'm going to die.

My symptoms get worst and I just sit and wait for Brian. He told me he was just changing some stuff in the car, so I go outside and he is no where to be found.

Finally 7 rolls around, and he comes prancing in like he has done no harm.

Meanwhile yesterday, while baking him a cake and cooking him food I was talking to him about how I wasn't mad at him about this entire thing because it takes two to tango.

All day today though I was doing the tango alone.

So now he is sitting there and pouting while I try to gauge what this all means.

If this is how he is when I am in a tiny crisis what if I ever have to get an abortion? or something else comes along? What new errands will he have to do, and how long will he not be here for me.

I was supposed to be home three days ago, but with the car problems and whatnot I wasn't able to.

I am pretty sure the rat is dead.

Sometimes I wish I could just dissapear. Not exactly die, just kind of pause everything. But of course, thats impossible.

I broke down last night.
I drank far too much and everything just crashed down.

I don't know how long I can hold everything in. But I also know that no matter what, no one can help me with this.

I feel like my flesh has been torn off and everything just hurts.

Brian just nearly snapped on me.

Whatever, like its a big deal that I pushed him when he tried to destroy my dinner. I'm the one with the bruises on my arms from him hurting me.

And I hate that I know that everything that has happened in my past will always be there to haunt me.


I think I need to go to a therepist.

When faced with potentialy bursting into tears and showing weakness I think of one thing. Snow. Its easy. Just white snow, what it looks like on pine trees and on hills, how when I went up to nevada the train would just glide past it. Trailing along steep mountains and how you can see the other half of the train on some of the turns. How could it looked outside, but was so warm inside and with hot cocoa which was always a plus.

And thats what I'm thinking right now.

I haven't updated in a while but I decided to.

My mother tried to kill herself a few weeks ago. She took all of her heart medication ( about 23 pills) and told me while I was making grilled cheese. She believed she was "saving herself" from the demons, but suddenly remembered that killing yourself is a sin.

It was so scary to be in the ambulance as the EMTs said things like "her eyes are dialating" and " in 20 minutes she might have a heart attack we need to get to the hospital." Thankfully, shes ok..although the medical bills are going to be very expensive.

She has decided to sell the house. But yesterday she told me that she has realized that the voices aren't real and she needs help. She believes it might be psychosematic. I believe it might just be years of stress finally having taking their toll.

Today she has begun talking to herself, I dunno I suppose it could have developed a while ago but I noticed it today when I heard her saying " pink, green,white, black, brown" ..she was reciting the colors on a sign. She has also began laughing to herself. I don't know if the voices are more frightening or her talking to herself.

Also, I am engaged. But I think he did it all for the wrong reasons. I love him, and I do want to be with him..and I know that I do want to marry him. But I read in his livejournal that her proposed to me due to me crying when I thought he had left me after an arguement. Its a sweet gesture, but I don't want to be married to someone who thought they had to. I want to be married to someone because they can't imagine their life without me.

Yesterday I went to me first job interview. I have sent my resume to maybe 10 people but this was me first interview. It was to work at a concession stand in the aquarium. Basically, it would be at either Burger king, haagen dazs, or papa johns...all of them are entry level shit jobs. But yet, she was shocked I had no job experience. I had no idea that in order to microwave whoppers I had to be a rocket scientist.

I suppose I took it kind of hard, knowing I most likely won't get this job..its just through jobs and whatnot you can tell your value to society.

I want to go to school to be a vet tech but that won't happen if I can never save up money.

Its funny though, I've been published, I've had my photography complimented by professional photographers but I can't get a job deep frying fries. Maybe I should just take some secretarial classes. I do know frontpage, word, adobe, some wordperfect and I can type relatively o.k.

At least when I'm a vet tech I can put down on my resume I got some crappy award from California for excellency in Biology I suppose.

I know I can control my own behavior as others see it, but I can't control my mothers.

Sure I've been feeling the same as I do every now and then, feeling dirty and greasy, fat and unattractive..like everythings failing even if its not even put into motion yet. I've been having my panic attacks again, I feel like there is something in the works, some big break that will crash. I just can't put my finger on it yet. But I know its there, its always there and its always threatening.

I've been reading more, watching tv, lethargic. I'm done trying to keep my mind off of it by partying, flaunting sexuality and drinking constantly. I'll just let it all fall now.


My mother is hearing voices.



My mother and I began doing EVP's about two months ago, it was fun and it was a great way to bond. It was like telling scary stories to eachother except it was just unexplained voices on a recorder. They didn't talk much and what they did say didn't make that much sense. I showed my friends, I had them listen..they thought it seemed fun and some even got spooked out.

But now my mom is hearing the EVP's without having a recorder,

And she says they are attacking her.

She can feel body parts in bed with her. She feels icy coldness go from her legs to her shoulders and then like something is trying to crush her skull.

She says they hear everything we say, they know everything we do.

She doesn't know if they mean to kill her or possess her.

I've had to explain the catholic signs of possession to her at 1 am.

She's been sleeping on my couch but the "attacks" persist.

She says they want her because shes powerful and has so much energy. That they want her because they are demons and un made from this earth.

She bathes her head in rock salt, she washes her hands in florida water, dripping it all over her doorways. She chants protection spells under her breath and if anything is of "importance" she will write it down for me to read- so they won't know.

This is the worst I've seen her. She geniunely thinks that her life is in danger.

And I remember when she told me she could evoke elementals and how if anyone crossed her path they would be cursed, and how she was powerful from years of study...but back then I was 8 years old and it made just as much sense to me as the fact that I had a monster in my closet.

She told me my father was a fallen angel, lucifer and she has strawberry marks to prove it. She says the other fallen angels used to have sex with her to try to get my father to be jealous. She tells me alot.

In one way or another I've always been trying to help my mom. I moved here because I was afraid if I didn't she wouldn't be able to take care of herself. She doesn't get jobs, she just moves from city to city until we run out of money.

When she talks of my oldest brother he is a traitor, and I don't want to be that...but I'm close to it.

Between all the negativity of my childhood, all her bickering, telling me I'm ugly, telling me every man who says he loves me is just using me for sex, how I'm nothing but a whore, how my sexuality is nothing but me trying to destroy myself, letting my brother beat me, and then telling me he will always be better than me...and now this...I just don't know anymore.

She's suffocating me and I can't hold her up anymore, I just can't.

She also told me that my father said I was to be a continuation of her..I pray he was wrong.

Its a day to my birthday, my first birthday alone.
I don't even think my boyfriend knew it was my birthday coming up until I told him.
He hasn't even bought me a gift.
I just feel like this is one more step to the grave. One more year where I've done barely a thing and another year I can never have back.
And my boy scared me so bad two days ago.

We were just done with foreplay and I told him I was going to get dressed but he restrained me. At first I thought he was kidding and he was talking about giving me oral. I told him I didn't want oral and tried to get up but he restrained my legs and tried to give me oral. So I try to push him off of me, I kick him, I pull his hair, I try to slap him, I punch the back of his head ...all while screaming and he won't stop.

My heart was raising and I'm sure the neighbors heard me screaming. He finally stopped and I quickly got up and punched him.

I felt like I was being raped, I was so scared of the guy who supposedly loves me.

So I talked to him about it last night and he told me he thought I was kidding, he asked if I trusted him, if I knew he wouldn't do that to me.

And then I began to think something was wrong with me. Maybe something clicked wrong due to past experiences like this.

But no, what he did was totally out of bounds..

The fucker.

And he wonders why I won't be a sub to him.