Im currently sitting with my boyfriend awaiting the arrival of my new foster family. The woman's name is Mrs.Arvay and her son, Micheal, will be coming to get me soon. I packed everything I have to my name (which can all be fitted into one suitcase and a backpack, the result of moving 15 times. Not even kidding, this is my 15th move.). She lives 30 mins from David and the school and needless to say Im nervous.
So many what-if's come into my mind. What if she is really strict and not understanding? What if she refuses to get me therapy and my meds? What if her son doesnt like me? What if things dont work out? What if what if what if. Im going to have a hard time sleeping without David again. Im hoping to get a laptop soon and be able to not have it taken this time.
Ive had a good time here with David, though we have been arguing alot recently. I think its from stress and his medication that helps his aggitation isnt working. But its also the fact that we are both prideful, joined in with the fact that its hard for me to just drop my anger. I really hate this about myself, it leads to fights and frustration.
Well Im off to try and get some drawing done.
Demons live inside you, and sometimes they win
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
.002
Sitting in the car I looked over at Jessica and felt a surge of relief and happiness when I thought about how we are okay now. Since me and David started dating a year ago his sister, Jessica, has hated me without reason. She had sabotaged our relationship for months, for reasons she couldn't even explain. For the longest time I thought she liked me and I went out of my way to be nice to her and try and include her and get David to be nicer to her (stop calling her names, share the Ps3, help her out with her mom, etc).
I liked her, we had similar interests, but for whatever reason her and her friend Chelsea didn't like me. And I found this out when someone else told me they were calling me a "Filthy whore" and "Bitch" behind my back.
Needless to say, when I found this out I was appalled. It hurt, and that is because I'm one of those people who want everyone to like me. And to be quite honest, it isn't hard to like me, I'm a generally loving and nice person. So I demanded to know what I had done to deserve this. I wrote both her and Chelsea a long letter explaining how I didn't have the energy to handle their angst and senseless hatred (at this time I was still going through my family stuff) and how I would like a solid reason for why they don't like me. I explained how it upsets me and how I wanted to get along, blah blah blah.
Anyways, since that point Jessica got me kicked out of the house (I was living with David to escape my crack-using father) and made me go back up north to live with my mother (who not 2 weeks after I got there tried to overdose on drugs in an attempt to kill herself on my BIRTHDAY, and that's only the beginning.) So to sum all this up, she had really affected my life because of her senseless hate.
But when I returned back to Florida and back to staying with David (temporarily until I moved into my new foster home) both her and Chelsea came in the room and apologized and asked to be friends. I cried and said it meant alot to me, more than they could realize. All I wanted was for us to be friends, they weren't bad girls besides the fact that they did that.
So now we are comfortable and friends, like all that mess never happened. And though I'm relieved and joyous that we are friends, I'll never be able to put what she did behind me. I forgive her, but I wont forget it. This may sound bitter, but what she did affected me beyond repair, and it will be hard to just let go. But, all in all, I love her very much and I still cry when I think of how relieved I am that we are friends, and how much it means to me that everything is good.
I liked her, we had similar interests, but for whatever reason her and her friend Chelsea didn't like me. And I found this out when someone else told me they were calling me a "Filthy whore" and "Bitch" behind my back.
Needless to say, when I found this out I was appalled. It hurt, and that is because I'm one of those people who want everyone to like me. And to be quite honest, it isn't hard to like me, I'm a generally loving and nice person. So I demanded to know what I had done to deserve this. I wrote both her and Chelsea a long letter explaining how I didn't have the energy to handle their angst and senseless hatred (at this time I was still going through my family stuff) and how I would like a solid reason for why they don't like me. I explained how it upsets me and how I wanted to get along, blah blah blah.
Anyways, since that point Jessica got me kicked out of the house (I was living with David to escape my crack-using father) and made me go back up north to live with my mother (who not 2 weeks after I got there tried to overdose on drugs in an attempt to kill herself on my BIRTHDAY, and that's only the beginning.) So to sum all this up, she had really affected my life because of her senseless hate.
But when I returned back to Florida and back to staying with David (temporarily until I moved into my new foster home) both her and Chelsea came in the room and apologized and asked to be friends. I cried and said it meant alot to me, more than they could realize. All I wanted was for us to be friends, they weren't bad girls besides the fact that they did that.
So now we are comfortable and friends, like all that mess never happened. And though I'm relieved and joyous that we are friends, I'll never be able to put what she did behind me. I forgive her, but I wont forget it. This may sound bitter, but what she did affected me beyond repair, and it will be hard to just let go. But, all in all, I love her very much and I still cry when I think of how relieved I am that we are friends, and how much it means to me that everything is good.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
.001
Its 1:15 am and I sit awake in bed. Next to me is my other, better, half David. He is rolled over asleep, which I envy. This hasnt happened since I've gotten here, at least not terribly bad. But tonight I lay awake because of anxiety. I worry about things to come (going into a foster home soon) and things that have gone (dont even get me started).
I think about those afternoons I would come home and try to bear 20 mins of Carmela and Duane while I waited for David to get home. He was my saving grace. I hate lying here remembering the panic and anxiety and fear I had every day I came home. I hate remembering the feelings I had at that time, scared Duane would come in and yell at me again, scared they will be fighting, scared David wont be able to make it better. Anger towards them taking and selling the only things I ever asked for in my life, anger that every time I tried to approach the subject I'd get shut down though it tore me up every day. She didnt care that I needed something to keep me busy, least this would happen. Never, ever do I want to live with myself being that way. And that is a sad thing to say.
I had one escape, one thing to keep me sane, and it was taken from me and there was nothing I could do about it. I hated the feeling of helplessness. I searched the faces of every parent I saw, every grown up, and thought why cant anyone see I need help? Why isnt is obvious? I couldnt talk to my mother, she was in rehab for using heroin and pills and trying to kill herself on my 16th birthday. I didnt quite have a Dad to talk to. All I had was my sister and brother in law, Carmela and Duane. They were the worst of them all.
Sometimes, even now, I lay awake in bed and my heart will begin to pound and my thoughts will begin to race like Im reliving those moments in that house. It wasnt just those months before I moved, it was the years before that. The time Larry put his hands on me, and my mother didnt care. It was the time Michael bit into my neck hard enough to break the skin as he pushed me against a tree and raped me in the woods. Its the times I wanted to kill myself and no one noticed, or cared. It were the times I'd beg my mom to listen, to understand, and she'd tell me to go away. It was the times I had to muffle my crying, or Larry and mom would yell at me.
For years I couldnt look someone in the eyes when I was upset. It was like looking an animal in the eyes and the animal taking it as a dominance challenge. Once I got bit in the eye because of that. I still associate looking people in the eyes with that every now and then.
I want to talk to David about this anxiety that keeps me awake on a Sunday night. But what words do I say? He knows about my past, there isnt anything he can do about it. They are my demons I have to live with every day, demons I'll have to live with for the rest of my life. Do I have the strength and compassion to forgive my family? The ones who have hurt me and damaged me for years to come? They will never, ever understand the extent of what they have done. I deal with so many issues as a result of my 16 years of life, it sickens me. Im barely above the age of a child, and I havent experienced being one!
Im so tired, mentally, physically, emotionally. Im always tired. It just never ends.
I think about those afternoons I would come home and try to bear 20 mins of Carmela and Duane while I waited for David to get home. He was my saving grace. I hate lying here remembering the panic and anxiety and fear I had every day I came home. I hate remembering the feelings I had at that time, scared Duane would come in and yell at me again, scared they will be fighting, scared David wont be able to make it better. Anger towards them taking and selling the only things I ever asked for in my life, anger that every time I tried to approach the subject I'd get shut down though it tore me up every day. She didnt care that I needed something to keep me busy, least this would happen. Never, ever do I want to live with myself being that way. And that is a sad thing to say.
I had one escape, one thing to keep me sane, and it was taken from me and there was nothing I could do about it. I hated the feeling of helplessness. I searched the faces of every parent I saw, every grown up, and thought why cant anyone see I need help? Why isnt is obvious? I couldnt talk to my mother, she was in rehab for using heroin and pills and trying to kill herself on my 16th birthday. I didnt quite have a Dad to talk to. All I had was my sister and brother in law, Carmela and Duane. They were the worst of them all.
Sometimes, even now, I lay awake in bed and my heart will begin to pound and my thoughts will begin to race like Im reliving those moments in that house. It wasnt just those months before I moved, it was the years before that. The time Larry put his hands on me, and my mother didnt care. It was the time Michael bit into my neck hard enough to break the skin as he pushed me against a tree and raped me in the woods. Its the times I wanted to kill myself and no one noticed, or cared. It were the times I'd beg my mom to listen, to understand, and she'd tell me to go away. It was the times I had to muffle my crying, or Larry and mom would yell at me.
For years I couldnt look someone in the eyes when I was upset. It was like looking an animal in the eyes and the animal taking it as a dominance challenge. Once I got bit in the eye because of that. I still associate looking people in the eyes with that every now and then.
I want to talk to David about this anxiety that keeps me awake on a Sunday night. But what words do I say? He knows about my past, there isnt anything he can do about it. They are my demons I have to live with every day, demons I'll have to live with for the rest of my life. Do I have the strength and compassion to forgive my family? The ones who have hurt me and damaged me for years to come? They will never, ever understand the extent of what they have done. I deal with so many issues as a result of my 16 years of life, it sickens me. Im barely above the age of a child, and I havent experienced being one!
Im so tired, mentally, physically, emotionally. Im always tired. It just never ends.
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