Here we go again. About a week into the whole quitting thing, I fall off the edge of the sane world. It's making me crazy. I build the whole world up against me...feeling alone, as if forgotten, unloved, lost. I wanna scream, but, I try to keep it all under wraps. I don't want to share how I feel...it doesn't make sense and it will just make you mad or whatever. So I cry in the shadows, and attempt to go on from one day to the next as if nothing were wrong...


************************

In the vague darkness of the night, she slept soundly in the security that was provided by her home. She knew her mother was there, and this week, so was her father. She didn't see much of him, as he spent much of his time at sea on a boat, but today, he was home. For that, she was glad.

They had been having trouble with the smoke detector. It seemed to want to go off when there was steam coming from the shower, which normally jolted her awake in the mornings. Today, however, she could see the tall figure of her father silhouetted by her nightlight against the darkness of the hallway. He was so tall that he had no trouble reaching the problem; pulling it from the ceiling and silencing the loud sound.

Looking back, that seemed to be the last real memory that she had before all of that peace and security came to an end.

She opened her eyes only to awaken to the yelling and screaming that she could tell came from her parent's room. Why were they yelling? She was confused, and scared. Pulling the covers higher over her head, she tried to go back to sleep and ignore the yelling. It had happened before, and maybe if she ignored it this time, it would go away. Alas, she heard footsteps coming down the hall and her mother stepped into the room.

"Get in here. You need to make a decision."

The child sat up slowly, her eyes meeting those of her mother. She could tell that her mother was mad; it was rare that such a look crossed her face. In fact, she couldn't remember another time when it had. Getting up slowly, she followed her mother into the bedroom. Getting a hug from her father, she looked from one to the other. He set her up on the bed and stepped back; he seemed to already know the answer.

"Which one of us are you going to choose to live with?"

What? Didn't we all live together? It didn't make sense. She looked from her father to her mother. She didn't really know her father. She didn't really know who he was. It was a big unknown, and that scared her. She started crying. Why would she have to make the choice? Inching towards her mother, the child's eyes seemed to send a message that was far beyond her years.

I'm Sorry.

The world around her collapsed that day. What was life, turned into a ragtag collection of memories. There was the brown van with no seats in the back. There were the cameras. The snow, and painting trees with no leaves with watercolor paints at the kitchen table. There was the time Santa came in on the Jack. She could recall the height, and how she could only hug his knees. Oddly enough, there was also the discussion about getting rid of the cats because of her allergies.

Times changed radically. Things became such a blur. They were moving; packing everything into boxes and going somewhere else. She was sad. First, their television was gone and she couldn't watch the Olympics that year. More than that, her father had not come back and she was going to leave everything that she had ever known. The tree that she claimed was her friend, the garden in the back of the yard, the snow and hot cocoa that normally came with winter.

Things were changing.

Soon, they were in Florida. How they got there was well beyond her, but there they were. Things changed more. Her mother became distant, as if the child was no longer a driving force of any importance in her life. Constantly, she was bombarded by things her mother said; accusations that her father was worthless and didn't want her, that her father had walked out and left her, on top of the accusations of lying, stealing, and general discontent. The child started to hide rather than face it all.

There was a pond in the back of the condo building where they lived. It was here that she would escape. Mounting the imaginary horse that she had, she would race around the pond with other imaginary horses. For hours she could do this. There were no friends. Occasionally, she would have someone to share her world with, but most people just thought she was strange. So, at an age far younger than she wanted to, the child began the process of locking herself away. It was safe in there, where no one else ever came. Her own mind made up friends. There were the officers of the space shuttle, the pilots of the carrier she was assigned to, the other horse riders, and so on. She found comfort in the arms of her imagination; throwing parties for herself and her imaginary friends.

Time marched on around her, though she had gotten so that she was quite well hidden from the world. At the same time, she didn't realize that it was not normal. There was always the twinge of doubt...when she was alone on the playground while the other kids played something together. It made for a lonely existence, but it was something that she was alright with for now. At least she had her imaginary friends, right?

******************************

The bell rang, apparently, even though the woman had ended up on the floor on the other side of the bed. It seemed like an enigma to all of the adults, but for some reason, it made perfect sense to her. Sitting in the darkness of the living room, she took a black paper and a white crayon. She wasn't sure what to think...but she certainly wasn't on the verge of falling to pieces.

That night, people filled the home around her. She didn't talk to them. Instead, she drew her picture and seemed to fill with a sense of contentment. As if someone had told her everything would be alright and she believed it. It was an odd situation, and her mother would later tell her something was wrong with her because she hadn't cried. The child couldn't figure it out though. Why cry? She was only six, but she seemed to understand that people come and go. Life goes on.

Now it was just her mother and her. Things remained the same for a time. She stayed in the private school for another half of a year. They stayed in the home of her grandmother for a couple of years. She ended up in a public school, which was quite the experience for her. She hated it. The kids would throw things at her at lunch...most notably peas...because she would read at lunch rather than get involved in any groups. She had even fewer friends at this school than the last; she was more alone than ever.

Hiding was something that she was learning to do, and she was learning to do it well. She realized that there was no one that wanted to share her thoughts and dreams. They were all outlandish anyways. She kept looking for someone to latch onto, but the someone ended up being the imaginary people that she created in her mind. At least they would be there to talk when she wanted to.

*********************

One day, the mother brought home a man. It was the first time that she had seen another man in her life. She wasn't sure if she was seeking the approval of a male in her life, but she almost instantly latched onto him. She didn't want him to leave too, though she didn't really understand the relationship thing. Still, she had gotten used to him being there when she woke up on weekends, and in her innocence, she would crawl under the covers next to him on the couch. Perhaps this was the start of something evil, but for the child, it was simply warmth and physical contact from someone she considered safe for the first time in a long time...

Suddenly, she found herself mediating the arguments, trying to please her mother every way she could, looking for them to solidify things somehow. There had been talk of selling the condo and moving into his house. It was something she wanted...a real back yard, a pool, and a family. A real family. The possibility of normality.

Weekends began to be spent at his house. In the beginning, it was amazing. It was, just what she wanted. They seemed like a family...they took trips to theme parks, they ate dinner together, they watched tv together. He worked on his cars, and she worked in the house. She would crawl into the waterbed on weekends and he would rub her back. She didn't think it was odd, nor did she find it strange when he told her,

"Sometimes it's ok if I come in the bathroom when you are in the tub, like if you need help washing your back."

It all seemed normal to her, even though the voice in the back of her mind was screaming that it wasn't.

After being disconnected for so long, I find it difficult to view other people as...well...people. I guess I have this thought that people think differently than me, when in reality, they have thoughts that are just like mine. The same basic realizations, moments of clarity, times of trouble, and even fear. I am so afraid of saying the wrong thing, though, that I don't know just what to say. I am afraid of saying what's in my head. I am afraid that I am wrong.

Fear robs us of the things that we want. It takes away the greatness that we could be. Instead, we avoid the thoughts of whatever we fear instead of facing it and finding the good side of things. I guess I feel jaded...the world is giving me all that I ever wanted, but just shy of the whole package. It hurts to think that things would have been so much different just a few years ago. It's like I'm always too late to the party to take part in the festivities.

Time goes on, no matter what we do. I have always believed that it isn't so much how much time we have, but what we actually do in the time that we have. There is no promise of tomorrow, so to dread something that might happen twenty years from now is almost pointless. It just makes it so that we live in fear instead of going after what we want.

Of course, a large part of a healthy relationship is compromise. You can't always just go after what you want. You can't always have the second chance, the whole package, or the full...nine yards? Yea, I don't even know if that fits, but it seems to in my head I guess.

At least I am sure of what I feel now. I'm not lost like I used to be. I know what it feels like to be loved. I know what it feels like to be part of a family. I am beginning to see what a real father is...and what a real partner can be like. Still, it pains me to think that the past, which was out of my control, and the future, which I cannot predict, has such a dramatic grasp on the present.

Hope, however, is always there. I guess I have some goals now, and I will put everything I can toward them. My first goal was to make it so that you didn't have to work at a place that you hated all the time. Although I didn't succeed the way I had set out to, I did succeed in the end. Success by association? Jenny is a godsend in so many ways.

I never looked at it like that before. I never saw that success, but it is there. Here you are, working from home, just months after you had planned to start looking for another job. The thought makes me ecstatic. Now, I have to set my goals higher and find the next rung on that ladder. From my standpoint, the goal seems unreachable at this moment, but that isn't going to stop me from trying.

The motivation ebbs and flows, and some days I just want to give up and tell the world to go fuck itself. The days where nothing goes the way I want it to...the days where I see nothing but obstacles in front of me. Those are the days that make life so difficult. It would be so much easier if I could just make the past go away. Mine, yours, the kids...erase the pain and move on with the childish wonder that makes the world look so much more beautiful than the picture we see each day.

There is so much I have left to do, and yet I am caught up in the drudgery of day to day life. We miss out on so many little things each day, and we fear what the future will bring. Ten years ago I saw myself lost and unable to dig myself out of the dead end job I had and the inability to get the time to go back to college. Five years ago I almost died after spending the better part of a year in horrible pain and more tired than I have ever felt before or since. One year ago, my entire life changed from the dead end nothing to something where my dreams and hopes could once again flourish.

It's a blessing and a curse. While I am able to dream and hope again, it often ends me into thoughts that make me sad. Sure, I will be able to attain some of what I always wanted. The money drain is gone, so finding the money isn't a problem anymore. Time isn't a big deal either, as there is always time if I make it. The typical problems I've dealt with in the past are no longer roadblocks for me.

Goals...I guess mine are kind of simple. A job I am good at. I have it. A family...a real, functional, operational family. I've found it. A lifelong partner that I can really rely on, fall back on, and support. Someone to share everything that I feel, someone that will be there no matter what happens. My best friend, to do things with, to share the joys of life with, and to hold when things go bad. It's all right there. I have it.

So why are there things that still make me so sad? I don't know. I am very content with life, but there is always those major milestones that I want to reach.

We only get one life. We only get so long to make the choices before it is taken out of our hands.

There's more to it than just changing of a last name. It's a commitment, a precedent to set for our kids. It's a promise, not just to each other, but to the world. It's setting in stone that we can and will always work things out rather than turning away and taking the easy path. It is a message to our kids that we will always be here for them. It is a symbol to each other that there is nothing to fear, because whatever the future might bring, we will always face it together.

Until the end of days; ours at least.

I'll never push it. I'll never force it. But in the end, I do think about it sometimes, hoping that maybe one day the picture my mind has painted will be complete.

Either way, I love you, and I will always be here. Regardless, we will face whatever the future brings together.

It occurs to me that the majority of these posts are the result of emotional peaks that I find difficult to control. I want to lash out, but I write it all down here instead. So, it is important that I say one thing.

I am happy.

There are days where I can't stand being alive. I get a thought, and I think of the bad side of everything. It eats me up and I want to cease to exist. The feelings are so intense, and sometimes I feel as if there is nothing I can do about them.

I still cling to the dreams of my youth, and my wishes for the future. It makes for an impossible path, because there is rarely a way to have everything that will make you happy. The point is to be happy with what you have.

Of course, that doesn't mean that I can't be sad by dreams that will never be realized.

Perhaps I never learned the appropriate coping skills as a child. Maybe, if I had, then I would not have this inability to control the vivid emotions that plague me. It's almost like I can't stand being anything but miserable. If faced with happiness, I look for something to be miserable about. It's a viscous cycle that only makes for bad days.

I was in the kitchen, alone, tonight when I thought to myself how happy I was to be here. With a family that I have never seen the likes of. It then occurred to me that I was too busy being happy to think about the bad things. I was too enthralled with life at this moment, that I never even drifted towards the miserable end of things. It made me smile.

Still, I face the days where I find things difficult to handle. There is so much that I wanted out of life. I tried so hard to build it all, struggling to keep my marriage together. I wanted so bad to be married...though I'm not entirely sure why. I like the thought of belonging and the idea that two are bound forever. The idea that two would survive and build a family was next, and that too seemed dashed to pieces. I truly hate Josh. He took so much from me, and even more from the kids.

There are days when I remember all that they missed growing up because I just didn't have the energy. There was no bonding, or even any one on one time. Where one twin was, so was the other. I barely held them at all for the first months. They spent their time in the arms of other people or in their playpen. I just didn't have the strength or energy, and for that I will never forgive myself.

Never seems like such a finite and definite ending.

Coupled with how much trouble I have reading you, and discerning what is reality from jokes, I never know what to think. You are so complex, and sometimes I am just caught off guard. All I know is that I'm here forever, no matter what. What I lose in my past, I gain in my future. I know that...I just hope you can put up with my bad days for that long.

Giving up is the beginning of the end. My mom gave up on me and kicked me out. My dad gave up on me and sent me back to mom. Mom gave up on me again and sent me to whoever would take me, and when they gave up, I was on my own. You give up on me, and I only see history repeating itself. It"s the beginning of the end. Why really try when the evidence is stacked against you? I don't know why I try to begin with. It all leads to pain, loneliness and suffering. Why lead myself on that my life could be anything but misery.


Some days are so wrapped up in everything I ever wanted out of life. But when I hear those words...it all comes crashing down. I view all of it as my responsibility. Its my fault. I want you to be better, but there is so little I can do. And what I can do, I fail at. It makes me wonder what the fucking point is anyways. Try and fail, fail to do enough, fail at everything I do. Its never good enough, so maybe I should give up on myself.

Yes. Everyone else does, so why not me?

I never thought that a forever goodbye would be like this. It just was not something that I had ever envisioned. For some reason, the last time I saw you is like an image burned in my mind. It doesn't make me sad, just surprised...and mad. I realize now that you have done little more than take in all those years. I was so blind and stupid to allow things to go as they did, and I am so glad you are gone, but I just never thought that this would be it.

I guess I shouldnt be surprised. You never change, even if you can make people think that you have. You are no more grown up today than you will be twenty years from now. I hope that you find whatever it is that you are looking for, but in reality, you will probably fall on your face and I am ok with that. So much time, energy, and money was put into your upkeep. I laugh now to think of how you took advantage of Lindy, and now this girl in another country. Wow. That is all I can say.

Are you a fucking idiot? You think that this girl will want you when you get there? Look at your clothes? they are gross and falling apart. You can't seem to keep things washed or clean at all anyways. You think that you are a wonderful guy, but let me tell you what...there are very few redeeming qualities that you have. You are a fucking pathological liar who cares about nothing except yourself. I know that now.

All the promises that you made me in those first two years...they were nothing but a lie. I want to laugh now, thinking back to how you were going to finish college and go work in the IT sector as a programmer. A month of college later, you had quit and said it was too hard. What a JOKE! I don't know why I didnt see that as a red flag right there, but I am an idiot for keeping you around.

You could never hold a job. What makes you think you can hold one in another country. And don't get me started on the fact that you are MOVING TO ANOTHER COUNTRY! What the FUCK are you thinking? Do your children mean nothing to you? How about all these friends that you were always going to be there for? And what about your grandparents? After all that they have done for you? You fucking ingrate.

It wasn't enough to hurt me. To tear apart a marriage, and blame it on everything but the truth. That was why you couldn't come up with a reason that night. Because you knew that it was your fault and that you had fucked up. Oh, you tried to hide it. You lied and made me feel as if it was my fault and all I had to do was ask and you would come back home. You cheated on me, you cheated me, and you have left a wound that will not easily heal. Trust is hard to get, and you have none of mine.

You thought you were slick, and that I believed your lie about Arizona. Think again asshole. I wanted so badly to believe you, but in the end, I knew what was going on. Still, I got past the hurt you did to me...but I will never forgive you for what you put your children through. You have no right to call yourself a father. You are an idiot, who abandoned your entire family for a girl you met in a MUD. What a fucking loser. I cannot possibly tell you how much I loathe and HATE you. I have never felt this way about anyone Josh...but I hope you fucking die.

You just dont care, and no one can make you. All I can say is this...

I hope you leave, and that you never come back.
I hope you never call again, and that you write us off.
I hope you fall of the end of the earth.
I hope you one day realize just what you did...and now you have to live with it.


Goodbye Joshua. I cannot say that I will miss you when you're gone.

I feel jaded. I feel as if someone stole away some of the things that make life worth living. Despite the good, and there is so much more than there used to be, I still feel an unbearable weight that will never go away. It hurts to know certain things, and there is no way for me to run away or escape the fact of what is. I wish I could. I would do almost anything to regain that which others have taken.

No, I would do anything. Anything at all.

I will never be what I want to be. I am never going to be as strong as I need to be. I will never have the family I dreamed of growing up. Deep in the dark recesses of my mind I hide this idealistic thought that maybe things could work out on the framework of such ideas, but I am ever reminded that this is just not how it is to be.

I never had a family, but I dreamed of what mine would be like. I would give anything to hide away and live in that dream...but it will never happen the way I envisioned it, though I find myself thankful for the glimpse I do have.

Bad choices have effects on entire lives. Not just mine, but that of those around me. My kids will always have to live with the fact that their father is who he is. And I will always have to live with the fact that I said yes to what was the destruction of my life and everything I had ever dreamed of.

I spent ten years taking care of his every need. I spent the better part of my 'good years' making sure that he could go from one day to the next without ever wanting anything. He had everything material he wanted. He had beautiful children. He had a dedicated wife. In return, I get no support, no family, and an exhaustion that will never go away.

By choosing this path, I have set myself up to be the only one standing. The last person against the world. With no way out, I am not sure that I want to survive. I have no one to fall back on. I have no way to hide, even for a moment. No, I have to deal with it all, and the best I know how is never good enough.

All I ever wanted was a family. The things that are important to me will never be conveyed because the time for them has come, and gone. I didnt think it was too much to ask...a ring, a get together with friends...a place to hide when I couldnt handle it anymore...support and love...honesty.

No, the time for dreaming is long gone. I can only trudge on now and hope that the darkness finds me sooner rather than later.

I am happy with things now, as happy as I can be I suppose. There is a part of me that will always feel as if people came and took away some very important moments, feelings, and events...but what can I do? I can't go back in time, and I can't make people what they aren't.

The only escape will be at the end. At least I know that no one can take that moment away from me. That is the only promise of life...death.

It's been some time since I've posted, which I attribute to the many other things in life that have suddenly become so much more important that my own expression. Still, there are days where my feelings and my mind seem to take me to a pretty dark place, and I wonder if life is just not easier if it is not life. Right, then left, then right again. One foot in front of the other. Keep going...

What I want is becoming such a murky topic. I don't know what I want in this life anymore really. What I thought I wanted seems to hard, so I just stop caring. There are moments when I feel that overwhelming surge of passion for those things I once really wanted, but those times are few and far between, lost in the mindless babble of the world around me. Make money, make the right choices, do what I have to and then retreat into the virtual world. That is what life seems to have become. At least I'm not hiding anymore.

I find such joy in the moments. It's not the day to day trudge where happiness is, and perhaps that is why so many people are not happy. No, the happiest moments are those few seconds when something profound happens, and feelings surge. The little things that are said that make me feel worth something, the tiny actions that might not seem like much to anyone else. Those are the times when I can say I really am...happy.

The bad thing about finding those little moments is the pain that can be found in them as well. My guess is that these moments are so small because of the tide of emotions that come with it. I don't think humanity could really deal with these moments on a regular basis. I think we are all too weak.

Time marches on, and whatever I end up thinking that I want, somehow has a bad side and I throw the idea away. In the end I will store the few things that never waver deep down inside where no one can find them. If they happen, then they happen, but I will not look for something that will probably never come...

So here I am...

I think that I am so small in the world, and that what I am, or who I am, matters so little in the grand scheme of things. I guess we are all small, its just some people have larger effects on the world around them than others. I wish I was such a person, but that is not how I turned out to be. I think in the end, I am searching for just a small world of people I can have an effect on. Sure, I will have an effect on my kids, and that is huge, but I have this thirst to help others that I am not sure can be diminished so easily.

It was told to me that just existing changes the world. If I had never been born, then things would be decidedly different. It is not so much my actions while I have been here, but my very state of being has caused chemical and physical reactions around me that combine with those around others to create something larger. Sure, it might sound like the whole 'butterfly flaps its wings in Africa, causing a hurricane to form over the Atlantic' etc etc, but for whatever reason...it made sense to me.

I strive for perfection, and I know that I will never be that. I try so hard to make those around me happy, that I forget that I deserve it too. I reach for goals that are too high, too lofty, and now I am unsure of what I should reach for. Im too busy holding up those walls to let them go and really go for anything. No...that isn't entirely true either...I let down my guard and woke up my feelings...and I fell in love.

So here I am. The world around me will keep turning if I am here or if I die, and the effect that I have on the world is negligible...but for now, I hold on and hope that maybe I can learn how to do for myself what I have been trying to do for others for so long.

It's an odd moment...time is seemingly losing meaning, one hour running into the next, one day blending into the next, one week meshing into the neverending river that we call time. I think the only way I can really tell time is passing at all is the fact that the scars are healing, and soon, I won't have to hide them. I am getting lost in movies, drifting somewhere between the waking world, and one where I am that which I want to be...one in my dreams.

Sleep doesn't come easy lately. Dredging up the past has brought so many nightmares to the surface, and so many things I cannot yet write about. It's still difficult to face things even though so many years have passed...but I am still living the moments in my nightmares. If only I could come out and say what happened, maybe I would not have such a hard time facing it...

I miss you. It seems that the world has grown quiet. I guess my time spent with you was such a large part of my life that now that it is gone, there is a huge empty part of me, and I wonder why. Without specific feedback, I seem lost, and unsure of how to proceed. You say to assume things, but I am so bad at reading people, especially you...I can't tell if I am setting myself up for failure, or what. Either way, I give you the space that I think you need...knowing that you can always find me, and I will always be here when you are ready.

Still, as silence settles, I feel as if I am holding on and chasing...and Im not sure if this is good or bad. I don't want you to go, to fade away. You were my friend before, and even though things grow into more, you are still my friend. Perhaps the days of loyalty and absolute friendship are gone, but as my true friends of years gone by know, I will do anything for a friend...and I will do more for you...

I try to move my mind on to something else, but you are never out of my thoughts. I guess that is part of loving someone...and I wonder if I am in your mind as well...the only conclusion I can come to is to give it time. Trust that you will be here soon, and that I really do matter.

Tell me a story...dredge up the darkness and force it into the light...

January, 1994.

The walls shook as he hit them, leaving holes where his fists met anything solid. Each impact makes me flinch, and I retreat to the far side of my room after having closed and locked my bedroom door. I pull the blanket over my head, and wish that I could be anywhere but there. Screams reverberate down the hall and through the thin wall that separate my room from theirs. Things hit the wall, and I can only imagine the room descending into chaos. Tears fall and I fear what will come of that night...and I think about Carina, but I can't hear her. I assume she is asleep, and I am too afraid to leave my room, so I simply cower in the corner.

The slam of the front door makes me jump, and through the small slit in my blinds, I watch the El Camino tear out of the driveway as the sun falls behind the treeline. For a moment, I breathe a sigh of relief. He has gone, and I pull the blanket from my head and move towards the door.

*Crash*

The sound of glass shattering close by stops me in my tracks, and for a moment, I search for the direction of the sound. It baffles me, especially as the beating and slamming outside my bedroom door begins again, this time with an almost renewed fervor. I check out my window again to make sure that he was still gone, and the driveway was short a car. The sounds must be coming from my mother...

A soft wimper slowly turns into the cry of a baby across the hall. I wait, trying to see if mom would go to her, but the slamming in the other room continued. Shoving down my fear, I unlock my door as quietly as I can and move to open it slightly. My eyes adjust to the darkness of the hall, and are met with holes along the wall and glass shattered from the picture of God that hung at that end of the hallway.

I slip on my flip flops and jump over most of the glass, making it into my sister's room. Closing the door behind me, I tried to sing through the tears that were streaming down my face. Though my home was not stable, it had never been like this. I feared for everything in that moment, but I tried desperately to console my one year old sister.

As I held her and rocked her, singing a song from the school christmas play that year, silence once again fell upon the house. I sat and sang quietly to the calmed child, envying the fact that she did not have to realize what was going on. Her world was not falling apart, and if I could help it, I would never let it.

'MARISSA! GET OUT HERE!'

The scream made me jump, and slowly I stood and cracked the door wide enough to look down the hallway. There, at the end of the hall on the couch, was my mother drinking from a bottle of wine she had found at some point. Reluctantly, I wrapped my sister in a blanket and creeped out of the room.

This was the first time that I would see the results of the fight that night, and if I did not know better, I would have thought a tornado had moved through. I navigated the glass that now lined the end of the hall where she had torn pictures off the wall, only to end up with wet feet when I made it to her bedroom door. My eyes drifted into the lit room to see the now drained waterbed; a huge gash cut through the middle of it.

I caught my breath and forced myself to walk out to where my mom could see us. I stopped as far from her as possible when I saw her...she was sitting on the couch, a nearly drained bottle of wine in one hand, and the biggest butcher knife in the house in the other. She tapped the tip of the knife on her wrist as she tipped the bottle, and she looked up at me.

'You take your sister next door and call an ambulance.'

It was so hard to find my voice, and when I did, all I could manage was a weak 'Why?'

She pointed the knife in my direction...'JUST DO IT!'

I put my sister in her stroller and rolled it onto the back porch. In the doorway, I turned. My mother was sitting there, ready and willing to kill herself. I wasnt stupid...I knew what she was getting at. The wine was almost gone, and obsessivly she focused on the tip of the knife.

'But mom...I love you.' The tears of an eleven year old fell hard...and she only returned a cold stare. I thought I knew my mother, but that look said something I never want to revisit.

'No you dont. You dont need a mother. You deserve your father, you can't even call Robert dad. You dont even give him a chance. I dont want you here so go away.'

'But mom...please...'

'GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!'

'Theres a reason I dont call him dad.' I was breaking down. Finally, my fear of him was outdone by the fear of losing my mother.

'Oh really? Because you are a selfish brat?'

'No. Because he does things.' My stomach feels sick and my mind is attacked by the images of the night that I bury as the sun rises each morning. I struggle to say it, to tell her, and to keep the thoughts buried at the same time. She explodes into a renewed fit of rage, and around me the house is torn piece by piece. Again, the point is directed in my direction...

'You stay there.'

She gets on the phone, calling his parents...

'Guess what your son has been doing?' The sarcasm and psychotic tone of her voice is so thick...I cant recognize her...She goes into detail to the shocked parents, and then hangs up. Carina is still on the porch, which is probably the safest place for her, but every time I try to move, the point of the knife is redirected at me. My eyes plead with her to let me go, but she makes me sit there until he came home.

Sick to my stomach, and weak from the fear and the tears, I curl up in the corner of the couch farthest from the both. He sits across from me, and mom taps the knife on the table.

'Tell him what you told me'

Fear jolts through me. She was supposed to keep it from him. I beg her silently, but she doesnt seem to care. Through sobs, I repeat what I told my mother not that long before. His glare falls upon me, but I curl tighter into a ball and wish the world would go away. They break into more screaming, mom weilding the knife and Robert staying just out of her reach. It was then I was scared for my life...because I just didnt think that I would survive that night. Someone was not going to make it, and I figured that it would be me.

Through clenched eyes, flashing lights caught my attention slowly, and I forced them open in time to see three policemen walk through the door. Mom turned towards them, knife in hand, and began spouting the story of what he had done, not realizing that all they cared about was the fact that she was waving a knife around....

*****

That night, the took Robert away in handcuffs, mom away in a straight jacket, carina went with his parents, and I went with my great aunt and uncle. The house was left in a state of total disarray, only to be taken stock of later. All told, mom and Robert together had caused 700$ in damage, but once he had left, she tore a path through the house that ended with a price tag of over $5000 in damage.

Robert was home the next day, having been released on bond, and already having a lawyer hired for him by his parents. Mom spent three weeks in the mental ward of the local hospital. Social workers came and went, each one of them barraging me with the same questions. In the end, they said that I was too quiet and unwilling to speak about the details, and Robert passed a lie detector test, so he walked free. A month later, he was granted full custody of Carina.

As for me, I stayed with my Aunt and Uncle for a month before returning to my mother. We spent the next three months living at the titusville salvation army shelter...

I don't know what it is about silence...but it has always unnerved me. Maybe it's another throwback to my childhood, a time where everyone seemed to leave me behind...and no one ever just said what they were thinking. Back then, silence meant that someone else was about to leave, avoid, or hurt me...so I guess it is reasonable to not like silence now.

I know I am afraid of many things...and most of them I simply do not want to face. I've hidden from these things for so long...escaping to a digital realm or a fantasy world that allowed me the freedom to be important to someone or some cause. It's been a jolt to face a reality that simply does not care. I'm still searching for me...digging through all of the faces I put up so that I would be accepted in areas I simply did not fit, trying to reconnect to what I find joy in.

Still, the digital fantasies appeal...an alternative to these scars that appear and reappear on my arms over the long years of suffering. I wish for once they would go away and not return, but I think that I have a long road ahead of me before I can fully write them off as something of the past. What I thought I was over, I never am, and now, I am so scared to face things. Afraid of everything, life is spiraling...but now I realize that maybe I have been so focused on others...so I wouldnt have to face myself...

Tell me a story...face the past...only in seeing it, and feeling it, can I face it and really come to terms with the nightmares...

Facing the darkest moments of the past, the moments that you strive to bury, is never something you want to do. I've lived well over 16 years sweeping those moments under the rug, hoping that they would not be found. I still seemingly blame myself, finding fault in me rather than the one who committed the act. The abuse complex. I can sit back and point it out for what it is, but for some reason, I still cannot escape it. Writing it all down, reliving it in all it's vivid details makes me shudder...and tears stream down my face as the words coalesce on this page...but I am hoping...praying...and begging that somehow getting it all out will help me somehow... Summer, 1992 It had been a long day. For the first time ever, I went to a theme park, and it was fun. I remember being so excited to see shamu, and pet the dolphins...it was almost like a dream for the poor kid that never got to do anything. Up until that night, mom's new boyfriend was kind of cool, and I liked having him around. He got me things, and took me places, and let me ride in the hot rod cars that made the other kids jealous. I was tired that night, and I fell asleep fast and hard. It was the kind of dreamless sleep that you fall into after totally exhausting yourself. The summer made it warm in the house, despite the air conditioning, and I generally slept on top of the blankets. I would often wake in the night and roll around until I was comfortable again, and then drift into another cycle of sleep. This night was different...this is the night that my world changed forever. I remember waking, like I usually did, but this time, I was unable to move. At first I was scared, and in fear, I froze, trying to put together what was going on before I took any action. The room was pitch black, and I remember thinking that my night light had burnt out or was off for whatever reason. There was something holding my hand in place...and after a few moments, I realized that it was another hand... Frozen, I pretended to be asleep. Nothing like this had ever happened, and I was both scared and confused as to what was going on. At some point, he must have realized I was waking, however, because the hand that held mine in place returned it to my bed and he left the room. I remember thinking...why is my hand wet and sticky? I got up and washed them and returned to sleep... ***God...this is still so hard to think about...so hard to type or talk or think...especially in the darkened room. Even this, where it all began. Sure...it gets so much worse...but even this point is something I dont want to face. I feel wrong for thinking or talking about it...like it is something dirty or wrong. How can I ever get over it if I can never face it?! Frustrating...*** The next night, I awoke to the same sensation, my hand being held in place and moved along what I came to realize was something no child that age should ever have to touch, feel, or be a part of...this time he seemed to feel me wake, though I tried to be quiet and not move, but I could feel the grip on my hand get stronger. Again, when he was done and had left, I made my way silently to the bathroom and washed my hands... As the days droned on, and this continued, I was increasingly unable to look at him. I stopped talking to him, incurring the wrath of my mother, who had been trying to get me to call him dad since we had moved in. Instead, I would retreat to my room, or hide in the backyard...refusing rides to school in the hot rods, and staying as far from him as possible. I could never wrap my mind around what was happening, or if I had done something wrong...but fear of being made fun of kept be quiet, and the nights kept happening. A few months went by, and it became routine. I could almost expect him in my room on certain nights, even though my mother was sleeping in the next room. One night, however, in early january...and I remember it vividly...things went beyond this norm. Instead of the waking up to what I had gotten almost used to, I was jolted awake, unable to breathe. At first, I thought that I might be drowning, but it was not long before I figured out that I could not breathe because there was a hand over my nose and mouth. I tried gasping for air, but it felt like I was suffocating. That was when the pain shot through me like a knife. In the moonlit backdrop of my room, I could see his shadow over me...I wanted to scream, but I couldnt...I want to scream now, but I cant. Visions of the night dance in my mind, haunting me, but I cannot bring myself to write them down here. Its like something is stopping me, aside from the fact that it is getting hard to see through the tears...It hurts...and the phantom pains return... Time to change the subject and the soundtrack. Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to write more...but for now, I have to stop before I break. Oh, how I want to face this and heal...I want so bad to get over the hurt and the pain and the suffering...I dont want to bury it anymore...I dont want to be afraid anymore...

The darkness is suffocating. I guess I'm lucky that I was able to fend it off for so long as it is, but being free from it for so long has also made it that much harder to deal with. I feel so incredibly lost, and so incredibly worthless. I went and let go, and that is when the darkness sneaks in and clamps itself around my mind. It's hard to breathe, and I dont know if it is because I am sick again, or if it is because I am drowning in lack of direction.

Crimson rain and pain killers make it easier to breathe, easier to deal with the overwhelming feelings that are taking over. I try so hard to find something to be mad at, but in the end, every thought leads me back to me being at fault one way or another. Pull the pain away, pull it all away. My dreams are turning increasingly eerie, and I wake with the feverish dull pains of whatever occurred in my dreams. It hurts, but it draws my mind away. It's getting more difficult to tell the deathly woes in my dreams, from the pain I feel in the waking world. I dreamt that I stabbed myself in the stomach with a K-bar last night, and I woke up this morning with the worst stomach pain I can remember.

I talk to much...no one cares about the little stupid parts of my daily life. No one cares that I might finally get somewhere. No one cares what I spent the day working on. No one cares that I am sick again, or that I have a migraine, or that my website got another visitor. No one really cares, and my sharing it just proliferates the fact that I talk too much. Shut up Marissa, no one cares! No one cares about your stupid little pathetic life that you continually fuck up over and over. NO ONE CARES!

This is my last place of solace. The last place I can talk and type and they can't see it. They can't tell me how stupid I am, or how bad Ive messed things up. They can't tell me that I am worthless, a bad parent, a horrible addition to the human race. I can sit in my room, alone, with nothing but me, the painkillers, the stinging hurt, and my keyboard. It hurts more, but it eases the pain...a paradox that few understand, unless they have been there. Who cares. If the world refuses to care about me, then I refuse to care about the world. Let them die, let them fall to the evil of the world. Perhaps they will come to understand the pain and anguish that they put others through, but probably not. No, it seems as if I was created for the purpose of handling the pain so that others could go on about their lives without having to feel the hurt.

Remember the days where we could connect on a level that seemed...impossible? Where did that go? Have I finally scared you away? If not, then maybe you should be. You are the only one who has not told me how I've screwed up, and how worthless I am...it seems to me that if the rest of the world thinks it, there has to be some truth to it. Like the song says, there will come a day where 'I will let you down, I will make you hurt'. Maybe you should run while you can, before I can fuck things up beyond repair.

God, I want to go back to being the halfway giddy, awesome girl that you knew in the beginning. The one that didnt annoy you...the one that didn't make you repeat yourself, and the one you fell for. I am afraid...the deeper you get into my mind, the less awesome I will become. The less desirable I will be. I am still stuck...at a time when the world was against me...at a time when death was the goal, and life was meaningless. I try so hard to drag myself away from those thoughts, but in the end, I think it would be better for the world and everyone in it.

You once told me that it is sometimes easier to shut everyone out because it is easier than letting someone in. I am so scared to let you in here...the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind. It is ugly in here, where blood stains the walls, and the weeping of years worth of pain is the soundtrack. The stench of death wafts through the air, and rivers of hurt cut through a dark and drab landscape. There is a side of me you have not seen...perhaps glimpses here and there, but I go to great lengths to hide it. I am not sure if you would be able to help me cope, or if you would simply go away, but the thought of loosing you is too much to bear. You said you weren't going anywhere, but you have never been here...

Finally, the pain is waning as my head gets lighter and dizzier. I can't think right anymore, and for that, I am thankful. Into the darkness I drift, hoping beyond hope that I make it out alive. HA! Take this Josh, you asshole. You failed. You LOSE! You think that you had some kind of holier than thou impact on me and my life...well, you didnt. You found me like this, and now that you are gone, I am just like I was. You accomplished nothing...aside from putting me deeper in this hole. I hate you. As much as I try to be amicable, even today, you are mean and evil. I HATE YOU! You are the worthless one...you screwed it all up...why do I have to hurt and you dont?

Darkness, come find me. Take me like the tide, out to the fathoms of an ocean with no end. In the dark, perhaps I will find peace. Far away from the judgment, the hate, and the expectations. Let them all hate me, it wont matter if I am not around to hear it. Let them say how worthless I was, and how I was a bad mother, and how I did everything wrong. They won't be able to hurt me anymore when I can't hear them.

Crimson rain...falls down around me. Codine makes it easier to handle. And here I am, breaking my own heart...so ironic on Valentines day.

Just remember, whatever you decide to do, I love you. It is the only thing I am sure of right now. What I wouldnt give to see you for just a moment...to be close, where you can catch me when I am falling...to know that someone needs me...

Please...take the pain away...let the darkness encompass me...and make me hurt no more.

God, home. It's empty, silent...and again I am back to the depths of my own mind. Today was one of those days, and here I sit again, thinking of how to dig myself out of this emotional pit my mother seems to invoke. Why can't I just ignore her? Why can't I just let her words flow over me and away, down the river of life? It makes me want to scream.

So here I am, feeling so worthless. It's not my fault. It's not my problem. I don't know why not being able to make her happy has me so lost. She will never be happy, and yet, the fact that she repeatedly tells me that I am worthless, not good enough, and plain stupid in life gets me upset over and over again. I'm not sure why I bother to go down there...especially when I have to apologize to anyone around me for her actions.

I'm kicking myself over and over again for falling asleep too. The realistic side of my mind is telling me that no one can run on 2 hours of sleep a night and actually stay awake once things calm down...but I miss your voice...and the fact that I fell asleep mere minutes before you were there kills me. I so want to hear you, and feel you, and just be there next to you...but no, I fell asleep. I know I need to stop beating myself up over it, but I dont know...I find the little things so important, and it just makes me so sad.

I really don't mean to seem so...attached...I know you need space and so on, I just don't think I am ready to step too far away from that which has held me up during some of the most difficult steps I have taken in life. Still, as much as I want to hear you and talk again, I know that you know how to get ahold of me, and you will when you have time. In the meantime, I will be here waiting as always.

I will always be here waiting. I know you probably won't get the reference, but this comes to mind...

"I'll be here."
"Why...?"
"I'll be waiting here..."
"For what...?"
"I'll be waiting for you...so...if you come here...you will find me."
"..."
"I promise."

Anyways...I can't wait to talk to my love again. You are that important in my world. To the world, you might be just one person, but to this one person, you are the world.

<3

Rissa

*Sigh* I still don't know why I bother heading down to Florida. It never turns out well, and while there are moments that are nice, there are so many other moments that just make me wonder why I bother. Not only do I feel constant frustration when I am here, but I feel so disconnected from me and my own world. It's depressing and it makes me want to crawl in a hole and hide.

The only good thing about any of this is that this trip I feel very disconnected from my mother. She used to have such a hold on me, and I used to try so hard to make her happy even to my detriment. Meh. This time I just told her to deal. Stop being and doing what she does or don't bother and we will leave. Sure, it didnt really stop her, but it shut her up for the time being.

What I really did not expect so much of is the bullshit from my sister. She is so enthralled with her friends that she cannot do anything without them. She thinks that I am going to let her have them all over here and that I am going to just give in and let her have the run of the hotel room. She's yelled at Connor, me, and mom...and shes been more of a bitch than I've ever known her to be around me. I mean, I bend over backwards to give her what she needs, and I get slammed anyways. Meh again. I give up. Not gonna deal anymore. She has chosen the friends and her fucked up way of life over her sister. So be it.

What I hated most, however, is the fact that she set me up where I had to talk to her father. I loathe the man, and I want nothing to do with him...yet somehow Carina always makes it so I have to talk to him. I am so caught between not being rude, not locking myself out of her life, and wanting to avoid the man like the plague. I've never hated someone so much in my life...and yet he remains in my life like something that does not ever go away. What I would give to bury that part of my life...

I can't wait to get home and bury myself into work. With a new addition to my arsenal, I have high hopes that something will start to happen. I can't wait to be on the way...

*sigh* A few more days...and hopefully things will go back to somewhat normal. I have tons of work to do...and I just want to get home and get started.

I am missing you like always, and I never will be as cool and calm as you are as long as we are apart. Sure, it is easier as I finally am allowing myself to trust and realize that you are real and you are here...but there is something to be said for being able to look, touch, smell, feel, and simply be near. I really loved last week...and I am looking forward to the summer.

I hope the shuttle actually goes tonight...otherwise, it's back into the fray of exhaustion for me and the kids. Poor Connor is so tired he panics over nothing, and actually woke up crying for you last night. My mom hated it, but I smiled and told him we would see you soon. I'm still amazed at this connection, but it has made me fall even more for you. The last barrier has shattered. My kids love you, and thus, you are as close to perfect as is possible in a human...at least in my eyes. In the end, that is all that matters.

I love you...and I hope you are having a good time. <3 I'll be home soon, and maybe I can get this show on the road.

Rissa

Night falls on the end of yet another week in the life of the Rissa...and again I find myself not wanting to leave where I have come to be. I feel so at ease here, with people that accept me for who I am, as odd as that is. I feel like maybe I belong somewhere, and I am not alone. But, as everything in my life does, it comes to an abrupt end.

I watch my son, and his reaction. It is so...baffling. The child that has no real connections to people outside of me and those in his daily life has almost immediately grasped on to you, and he doesn't want to let go. He has found something that allowed him to fall so easily, just like me. Watching him transform from the kid that just doesnt build social connections, to a kid who has so much love and so much need for that role model and someone to catch him when he falls...it breaks my heart to think that now I have to put him through what I have to go through each time I tear myself away.

I send us both back to the isolation and loneliness that Asheboro has become. I tell him that you are not going anywhere, and that you will be there for us both, and honestly I am no longer sure if I am telling him that to reassure him, or if I am trying to tell myself that it will not be much longer before we can simply be. I wish I saw things from your point of view, where it is so easy to be apart, but I can't. In fact, I find it increasingly more difficult to wrap my head around you and how you feel...but then again, dealing with someone who actually has feelings is so...different. At least there is no doubt about what I am telling him...I know you are not going anywhere.

I really don't want to go. I hate Asheboro, I hate Florida, I hate my mother, I hate that city, I hate being alone. I hate being where the silence gets to me so much. I really hate not being able to get up and go out once and a while. Everything about that life is something I want to forget. Slowly, things that I had shared with Josh are fading, closing, disappearing, falling...and the last will be when I leave Asheboro. That day cannot come fast enough...

I want so bad to feel ok. I want to be normal, a part of something that is not sad, isolating, depressing, lonely, etc. I see glimpses, and then I must return to life and reality, and it sucks. Now, I have to force Connor to go through it too, and my heart will break as he still suffers. I want more than anything to take him away from that. I want to give him the life he deserves. I might not be able to save Kenna, but she will be ok. Connor...I worry about him.

So, here we go again. What I would give to have this over and done with...or to simply be numb. If there were a way to numb the feelings and the pain, I would jump on it. I hate being me, being so emotional...and still so broken. Fear drives me...it grips me, and forces my mind down paths that I would rather avoid. It's like a voice telling me that I am not good enough, nor will I ever be. Sure, I've gotten better at telling that voice to shut up and get lost...but it's still there.

Why are things so hard? Why does everything in my life have to be like moving mountains? Don't get me wrong...I am so in love with you, and I would happily move mountains if that is what it took...but for once, I would like something to simply come naturally, to happen without having to hurt and dig my way to whatever end I seek.

Nothing worth doing is ever easy...

I hate whoever said that. They should be drug out into the street and shot. Why does EVERYTHING have to be so fucking hard?

Ugh. I dread tomorrow...and all I can do is hope that there is enough of a distraction to keep Connor's mind busy and off of having to say goodbye.

I love you.

Maybe it's the fact that everything seems easier after the fact, or maybe I just like to make things out to be more than what they are. Who knows. Things were so hard to face for such a long time, and I did everything that I could to avoid them. Perhaps it was this that made me feel as if things would never get better or change.

In the end, the overall process has been much easier than I ever imagined. Going from so unhappy...being so miserable all the time...to being content with most days of my life has been fast. Almost too fast. Sheesh, if I had known that it was this simple, then perhaps I would have done it long ago and saved myself some heartache.

Then again, I think that having someone to catch me had a lot to do with me taking that step. I have been so isolated...so alone...for so long. I forgot what it was like to be around people. I am slowly learning what it is like to be somewhat normal again, rather than stuck in a corner and contained...destined to provide for an overage child and his friends. Freedom feels so nice.

If things had not gone the way they had, I would not know you. Perhaps fate doesn't exist, but it was a long and complex road that led me to you. The serendipity of the events that comprised the broken road is almost too much to think pure coincidence, but no matter what it was, I am ever thankful that this is where life has led me. It has not been easy, and there are still scars on my soul that perhaps may never go away...but you once told me that you were never going to run away...and I am beginning to trust in that.

I was never one to go out and tell anyone about much. I held it in and ignored it. I would hide in my room if I needed to break down, and I would push on...alone. For some reason, you made it easy to talk to you. Something about who you are made it simple for me to delve into things that I wasn't willing to talk to myself about. I faced things I had hidden for years, and I think the only reason I was able to was because you were there with me...always willing to change the subject and put a smile on my face if I needed it. Steady hands, guiding me through the nightmare, ready to catch me if I started to stumble, and set me back on the path.

Death is no longer something I wish for. Even the night I got drunk in Ohio, it was not like the nights that I would get drunk alone here. Those nights I wanted to die. I wanted the blood to flow, and the last time I tried, you stopped me. Those thoughts have gone from my mind, and in the short time that we have been friends, I have uncovered a side of life that I had been thinking only existed in fantasy. It was only for other people, never for me...and that is no longer true.

It seems as if I was ready to let the bad go, and as time goes on, the bad days become less and less a part of my life. Perhaps one day they will fade into my nightmares. Either way, I am thankful to have my friend and lover beside me as I tread onto this new land.

Giving yourself time to get your head straight is a great thing, especially when medication or emotion, or anything else for that matter, clouds your thoughts and makes you mad for little or no reason. I learned that you can say things you really don't mean, and you can even feel things that you shouldn't when you are under the influence of outside sources. It was good I did not write here when I was in that mindset...

The other night, my daughter told me how much she liked daddy's girlfriend, and being that my mind was so foggy, my brain heard that she liked her more than mommy. I was so mad that I was seeing red, but as time wore on, I calmed and saw it for what it was. She is not a replacement for me, but she is a fun person. I guess I can live with that. When the newness wears off, and the kids realize that she is here to stay, things will even out I am sure. If they don't, then I guess we deal with that as it comes.

I guess it is hard for me to really trust that the world, my world, is not going to fall down around me. Before I could control it, my world came crashing down on a constant basis. As a kid, I faced far more than I would ever want my kids to even think of...being raped, and the emotional mindfuck that comes with it, being kicked out of my 'home' and having to live at the local shelter, trying to connect with the only other kid there and being told that they were 'trash' and I shouldn't talk to them...learning that compassion is generally misplaced, and that people only are nice or stick around while they want something or are getting something from you...finally finding a home, only to be evicted shortly after...literally living on water and ramen for months on end (Ramen for breakfast SUCKED), and walking a mile to the grocery store to steal real meat, and a candy bar...it was the candy bar I got caught for too...*sigh*...

Eventually we ended up in the slums, the ghetto, the forgotten corner of Brevard county. The kids that were too young to even go to school were running around with knives, the elementary school kids were hanging on the playground smoking weed, the high school kids were so anti-white it wasnt funny...I don't know how many times I ran in fear of being killed, or worse. I had never been so scared, and so willing to give it all up anyways. All I wanted was to be loved, to have a friend...and it seemed that no matter where I found what I thought was a friend, it was all a lie. They only wanted something...

I learned more in that two years than any other time in my life. I learned how to survive on the streets at 12 years old. I learned that I could feel loved if I was willing to give something back...and the older boys had no problem allowing the exchange. I learned the talk, the walk, and how to stay out of the sights of the white-hating groups of teenagers. I learned to like rap, to dance, and to braid weave...I learned to eat crab legs, chitlins, and the random recipes that my peers mothers made. I learned how to have fun with almost nothing. We were all poor, and it was a dangerous place to live...but I learned. Looking back, it scares me to death, and I have no idea how I got out alive...or at least without so much more harm being done to me...

I grew up fast. I learned to take control. I couldnt handle the world crashing down on me anymore. I found out how to hold up the walls, and that is what I have been doing ever since. I might think that I am in control of my destiny, or my future or whatever, but perhaps the reason that I think I have no willpower is not because I dont, but it is because when I start to follow a dream or want, the walls start to buckle, and I have to go back to holding them up.

I never thought I would ever have help. I never thought that there would be anyone here that just was here because they enjoyed being around me. There is always something that someone wants, and when that is gone, the person leaves. That's how it's always been.

Over time, a deep sense of misplaced trust, ground in uneasiness, and false hope has made it so hard for me to trust. I know it seems like I will never be settled, and I will never realize the world isn't gonna come crashing down tomorrow...but please realize that I've never had anyone here to help me, and it is so hard to let go and just...trust.

I never had to trust before, because I have been in charge of everything since the day I took control so long ago. My past relationships were never co-operative...I have a hard head, and when I see a problem, I attack it. I am so scared of being hungry again, I am so scared of being on the streets again...I never EVER want to return to that point in my life...and I will do anything I have to in order to prevent it. So you see...it is hard for me to let go. There has never been a backup, there has never been anyone here to tell me it's ok...there has never been a place to go in case something goes catastrophically wrong...my parents don't care, and who do I have really after being isolated for so long?

Driven by my fear...sometimes it makes me blind to what is and can be.

Know that I am trying...I am trying to learn to trust in you, your words, your actions, the fact that there are fallback plans, people in general, and the world around me. I'm not used to not being alone...

It seems to me that being sick is a whole lot like blood in the water. Just like a wounded animal, the predators sense that I am weak, and they choose now to attack. It is the moment where I need support, that all of it vacates. When I thought I was making headway, suddenly I am reminded of why things are how they are...

It's one thing to be picked on by those who love me, because in the end, they make sure that I am ok and have what I need. They sit with me when I need a friend, and they get me orange juice and applesauce to make me feel slightly more human. Of course the people who are close to me know I am weak and now is a great time to pick because I wont fight back...but I don't have to worry about them deserting me when I fall.

Outsiders somehow know that this is the prime time to attack as well. My brain is foggy, and I cannot fight back as I should, so what better time to get their way. I don't know whats going on until its over, and by then, it's too late to do much of anything about it.

I don't get why Josh is so insistent that Connor has no problems. He was here for the meltdowns, he knows how they go...and yet he wants to take him off the meds.

'You arent a doctor'
'But I've done the research!'
'But you arent a doctor! If you were concerned you should have been by my side all along.'
'Well, I wasn't'
'No shit.'

Im sick of the battles, sick of the war. Im tired of trying to be the person and parent everyone else wants me to be. Im tired of being tired, of muddling through life as if there is nothing better. I've seen better, I've seen the bright side, and the fact that I am NOT worthless. I just have to make it out of this alive...

In the meantime, I will just try to keep the sharks away until the blood is gone.

It's crazy cold, and I feel crazy sick. Ugh. Even so, I still wish I was north, but my time will come. In the meantime, I have tons of work to do, and though slow, it's coming along.

I am so excited about the chance to go to WV in Feb. Even if the next week I have to head down to florida, I still am excited to see my love and meet those who are close to him. It's nice to be around a family that actually communicates as a family. I dont know how many times I wished in my life that my parents at least seemed to care about things in my life, but they still don't seem to. All I ever got told was 'dont screw up', and something about my mother blowing her head off. I am so sick of her and her idea that the world revolves around her...and of course when I blow up at her I get the silent treatment for the next week. Oh, how I wish I didn't have to go down there...but I guess shell and dan will be my saving grace, enabling me to not have to stay at that obnoxious house.

Fear is something I have been dealing with lately, and I am so worried that I am going to fail at what I am trying to do. I want so bad for it to work, and I keep telling myself that these things take time. I am still learning, and I am far from an expert in the field, but Shell tells me that you have to start somewhere, so I guess I just have to jump. As far as business start ups go, I guess the hundred I put into everything is nothing, especially if I can at least make that much back. Well, only time will tell. I will put everything I have into it though, because I want to give you the ability to stay home and enjoy life rather than spending so much time hating it. It is what I want to give to you...I only want to see you happy.

So here we are, another night, another 20 thousand words. More information than I can possibly process at once, but at least I am making headway. Later, Shell and I will get together and attempt something new, and maybe between it all we will see a return shortly.

On another note, I have had time to reflect and think about the time I spent in Ohio, and I have come to certain conclusions. I have often seen my sister break down before she was able to cope with a positive change in her life...I think perhaps the same thing happened to me when I was there.

I spent so much time being miserable that I guess I just thought that I deserved it. There didnt have to be a reason, it was just something that I was used to, and thus, it had to be that way. Moments would hit me, where I realized that life shouldnt be so terrible, but it took my friends months to make me realize this on a full time basis. Still, there are times when I am not used to being content and happy, and I fall back into the old mindset. That night in Ohio was a prime example...

Still, something broke that night as well. Its as if I shattered the old life and made room for something so much better. Since that night, a calm has instilled itself where panic used to be, and though I miss you horribly, I still realize that we have time...nothing but time.

When you put together this breakdown with the building bricks that you gave me that week, we see the beginnings of the life that I might actually deserve. No, I don't realize how much you love me...that is still a foreign concept to me, but I am trying to get it. What you told me about the safety net and not talking before you went to work so that things would fester when I was alone was something else my mind keeps going back to. As much as I don't want to impose my issues and problems on you and your life, I think I am starting to realize that you know it comes with the package, and you seem willing to take it all on to get the end result.

You have no idea how hard it is for me to understand why you would do that.

Still, breaking the old lines of thought and allowing the new, I am trying to realize that there is something here deserving of life, love, and happiness. It will take me breaking myself down, and you are building me up.

You make me happy. You make me smile. You make me feel your love...and it is getting more and more difficult for those bad thoughts to invade my mind and tell me that I'm doing something wrong. Whatever happened, whatever broke that night in the dark snow, and whatever panic and pain I went through, it has changed me, even if it is just the base to what I will soon be building.

So...let me borrow those bricks of yours that are waiting on standby, because I will never break your heart. I say we use them to create a bridge to a new world. You said you would be waiting for me...so...here I am...

"Sometimes people put up walls not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."

~ Kaida...the wall breaker. ~

It's quiet tonight. Well, quiet in my mind. There is nothing really to do, except throw myself into the work that I have been given over the past couple of days, and the work that I am creating for myself. I know that there are people successful at this...I can only hope that I can uncover this success...and if I can't, perhaps I will gain the guts I need to ask for help.

Tomorrow morning we head back to the south...where life is less than desirable, and things are never simple...but at least now I take with me a couple of things......

There is some kind of inner peace I have now...knowing you have pretty much seen me at my worst, which I guess was not as bad as I perceive it to be, but now that you know I don't have to stress so much about hiding it for fear of changing your mind about me. I am me, and I am glad you got to see the broken side of things...All I can say is those moments are generally quick, and though I try to wrap my head around them for a few days after, they go away and I return to reality...

I am not nearly torn about leaving as I have been the last times we have parted. I truly enjoyed the talks we had, and I think that they helped me realize the reality of the situation. You are not the flighty type, and stability being what I need...well...it works out well. We both have trust issues, but the fact that you have always come through on what you have told me allows me to calm down a bit, and I find myself more willing to trust words. I feel less concerned about you ignoring me or avoiding me because I've made you mad or you just dont want me around anymore...and my feelings are based more in the reality of how you feel. I guess I need to say thanks for sharing some stuff, the talking really was nice.

At any rate...I will miss being able to see you...being able to watch you sleep and know you are there...but I know that you are there, and if I need you, you are only a phone call or IM away. It wont be but a few weeks until I get to see you again, and I am very very excited about meeting your mom and sisters. Im not so much starting a countdown again...but I am looking forward to it. As always, time I get to spend with you makes me happy...so there you go...

Thankyou for everything my love...it was a wonderful couple of weeks and I really enjoyed it. With so much to work for now, it seems the future has direction, and for once I rise to meet it rather than dreading it.

So long Ohio...until next time. (A few months, tops.)

Im not sure what goes through my mind sometimes. Its like being happy overloads my emotional circuits. I feel so...needy sometimes...I guess I need the reassurance that not everyone in the world is out to hurt me.

If it's true that I lose control on those bad days, then I need to find a foothold that allows me to stay grounded. It's like teaching myself to dream lucidly...if I can gain realization, then maybe the bad days will be less painful. What makes my blood boil? How do I change melancholy into something more productive?

I don't know that I will ever be totally over the fear of you leaving...or anyone leaving...I think that of all things, that is a fear I will hold for a long time. At the same time, the more I dwell on that fear, the worse I feel, especially on the days where i already feel like the world hates me. I have to stop floating along...I have to stop drifting wherever my emotions go. It is time to take control and stop allowing the world to fall down around me.

As I sit and reflect, I realize how selfish I really am. I know that I am not the only one with pain....I am not the only one with trust issues, nor the only one who has lived through tough times. Your mom actually told me that life is just a roller coaster, and its not about the ride, but rather who you choose to ride that coaster with. Who better to ride the wild ride of life with than those that love me, and those who I love...where honesty, trust, and friendship bind us together. Together...alone the world is cold and painful, but when we are together we can begin to enjoy rather than just endure.

The bad days are coming less often. What used to be my life from one day to the next now only bites me every couple of weeks or so. I have to work at putting the bad thoughts out of my mind until something presents itself that I can grab onto and use to pull myself out of the rut. Eventually, I might be able to stand on my own two feet, but in the meantime I am ever thankful for you and shell and dan...for support that knows my inner demons, where I don't have to work on hiding the nightmare while trying to overcome it. Putting everything I have on a single front might just be enough to overcome that which has plagued me my whole life.

So every time I get the nagging thoughts that I could do something that would make you go, or that for whatever reason you just want to leave, I will come back and read this and remind myself that I am choosing to simply trust you. You have my heart, my whole self...and you could totally devastate me if you wanted...but in giving myself to you I trust that you will protect those things. Im letting go and I believe that my trust and actions are anything but misguided.

Above all, I need to love myself. Seriously...if there is something here that made you fall in love with me, then there should be so much more for me to love about myself. I so dont want to go home, but I know I will see you soon, and I have work to do to set us up for the future!

Huzzah! (I love you guys...)

Dawn breaks again, bringing with it the torrent of sober memories. I curl up into a ball and will it to go away, but it won't. It torments my mind, making me sick to my stomach...or maybe that is the pill...who knows. I watch you sleep, and I dread the day I have to leave this place. Sure, I know I've not been perfect, but this week has been wonderful for me...and I can only hope that it was good for you as well.

My feet hurt...the pain shoots up my legs when I try to walk, but I force it because I have to. It's the price I pay for whatever it is that I still am blaming myself for. I really don't know what it is that I feel I should be punished for...but somewhere in my head I simply grin and deal with the pain because it could be worse. The last thing I need today is to revisit my nightmares, and thus perhaps the pain will serve as a redirection that will keep my mind focused on what is here and now, and not on what plagues my mind.

I hope that these emotions wane...I simply dont want to deal with the intensity of things when I am home again and alone in the darkness of the night. I have set my mind towards a goal...to make as much money as I can while I am alone. Perhaps it will keep my mind from the loneliness that comes with sleeping alone every night, wandering an empty home, and finding myself in the dead quiet of my own world. I just need something to keep my mind busy...and I guess this is as good as anything.

I dont know...I feel so lost sometimes. I wish that things would fall into place like they do for so many others. I wish I had a handle on my world so that I didn't have to hurt quite so much. In the end, I just want to be up here with you where I dont have to wait a month until I see you again...