I feel as though I’m drowning. I always feel as though I’m drowning. I’ve been trying to do more of what I love. I’ve been acting and doing photography. It has been serving as distraction more than anything else. I can’t make myself happy anymore. I’m not sure I was ever really able to make myself happy, actually. It was more that I could use other things to make me happy. I drink to feel happy. I smoke to ease my anxiety, stress, nerves. I once felt happy by luring in men, receiving attention, having sex and convincing myself it was love. I’ve just always wanted so desperately to feel loved. I know there are those who love me. I have friends who love me. It is just so hard to believe that people love me. I feel so worthless all the time. Nothing fills this void. I just don’t know what to do to with this gaping hole in my chest. My Mother doesn’t love me or can’t love me or can’t love anyone. She rarely speaks to me and when she does her words slice into me. She has broken me in such a way, I don’t know how to put myself together. I feel as though I am a waste of life. Would that I could take my time and give it to someone who deserves it, someone who wouldn’t waste it suffering, drowning. I can’t disappear as I once could. I was so angry for so very long and I got comfortable there. I hid in my anger. Now that I’ve let it go I don’t know what to do. I just feel sad all the time. I don’t feel like moving or waking up or doing anything. I just want to live and die in my bed. I don’t want to put on clothing or brush my teeth or look at myself in the mirror. I don’t want to go outside. I don’t want to see people. On the best of days, I still have thoughts of ending it all. I imagine what it would be like to drive my car off the bridge. I can so clearly see my car going over the edge, crashing into the ocean, teetering for a moment, then sinking beneath the surface. Water begins rushing into the car, the pressure against the doors too much to open them, windows won’t roll down. Would I be terrified, sobbing, regretting my decision, or would I accept my death? When my Mother tried to kill me, I fought back. She sat on top of me, pinning me to the floor. I screamed. I clawed and scratched until she’d pinned my arms down as well. I was trapped. I couldn’t move. Her weight on me was too much. I remember the floor, hard and cold, the way my head and shoulders ached from being slammed against the tile. She pressed her shin hard against my throat. I choked out the words “can’t breathe”, upon which she laughed and said, “Good. Die bitch.” I continued to struggle, trying to free myself. There came a moment, when I couldn’t fight anymore. I was so dizzy. I was blacking out. In that moment I knew I was going to die. I lay there. I accepted my fate. When my Father suddenly burst in and pulled her off of me, I rolled upon my side choking in the air. My eyes readjusted to the scene as I watched her lunge back towards me and saw my Father grabbing her from behind, forcing her into a chokehold to keep her off of me. I just don’t understand. I can’t understand. The logical part of me understands that she is mentally unstable and needs to be hospitalized. The rest of me just can’t square with the fact that she actually tried to kill me. She pinned me down, sat upon my chest, leg against my windpipe, and as I struggled to breathe she told me to die. My head understands that she has issues, but my heart can’t understand what could move a Mother to want to kill her child. I’m not enough. I’m never enough. No matter what I do I’m crushed by the weight of her disapproval. She can’t love me. It hurts. It all hurts. I have flashbacks everyday. Every goddamned day I walk down the stairs into my kitchen where it happened. Everyday I walk down there and I see and feel everything I felt then. I walk into the big house and I have flashbacks from childhood. Every corner of this place is haunted by memories. My head hurts and my heart hurts and I just want to die. I just want to set the place on fire and watch it burn. I want to burn with it. I am broken. I need to be hospitalized as a result of what has been done to me. I want to be positive and happy again. I want to be sunny. I need to get help.
“Drowning deep in my sea of loathing. It seems what’s left of my human side is slowly changing in me. Looking at my own reflection when suddenly it changes, violently it changes. There is no turning back now. You’ve woken up the demon in me. Get up, come on get down with the sickness. Open up your hate, and let it flow into me. Get up, come on get down with the sickness. You mother get up come on get down with the sickness. You fucker get up come on get down with the sickness. Madness is the gift, that has been given to me. I can see inside you, the sickness is rising. Don’t try to deny what you feel. It seems that all that was good has died and is decaying in me. It seems you’re having some trouble in dealing with these changes, living with these changes. The world is a scary place now that you’ve woken up the demon in me. And when I dream… No mommy, don’t do it again. Don’t do it again. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be a good boy, I promise. No mommy don’t hit me. Why did you have to hit me like that, mommy? Don’t do it, you’re hurting me. Why did you have to be such a bitch? Why don’t you, why don’t you just fuck off and die. Why can’t you just fuck off and die. Never stick your hand in my face again bitch. FUCK YOU. I don’t need this shit. You stupid sadistic abusive fucking whore.”
“Dreaming comes so easily ’cause it’s all that I’ve known. True love is a fairy tale. I’m damaged, so how would I know? Healing comes so painfully and it chills to the bone. Will anyone get close to me? I’m damaged, as I’m sure you know. There’s mending for my soul. An ending to this fear. I was just a little girl, but I can’t go back. I didn’t say all the things that I wanted to say and you can’t take back what you’ve taken away, ’cause I feel you, I feel you near me.”