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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.