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( Email -[Part 3] -}
{2003-04-06} {8:36 p.m.}
I have never really looked at myself the way you described everything in your email. I never look inside of myself for anything good, I guess merely because I don’t think there is anything. Your email was beautiful, and I cried my eyes out. I don’t think anyone has ever sent me such a wonderful email before. Well, there’s Andrea but her emails were always basically there to make me laugh. She always did that crap on purpose. One her favorite things to say to me was “The water in my knees is going to hit your ass so hard it’s going to quench your thirst” It always made me laugh. But, now I have hardly anything to laugh about. I do laugh when I hear something funny, tho. That’s just a natural instinct in all of us. But, ehh I dunno. Maybe I need more counseling or something.
You asked me a few things about my sister and I… I really don’t have the answer for you hon. Ever since she moved back to Atlanta she hasn’t been the same. She got this great job and just changed completely. It is like I don’t even know her anymore. She has this “I am better than you” attitude, and that just pisses me off because I am family.
There was something that I left out in my other two emails to you. I have 2 more sisters. I never mention them because I disowned them really. My sister a year older than me got pregnant by our own father, and actually had the baby. Tried to say that Ben was the father, which we found out later wasn’t true thru a blood test. It sickens me to have a sister like her. She raised Robbie (the baby) for about 6 years. Gave him up as a mother and gave custody to our mom, who raised Robbie until he was about 11 years old and then she took our mom back to court making our mom look like an unfit person and my mom lost custody of him for ever. She doesn’t even have any grand mother’s rights. How fucked up is THAT? And after she had him back for maybe about a year she gave up all rights as a mother and awarded him to the state. I feel so bad for Robbie. The confusion and pain he must be going thru is unbearable I am sure. I know how much it hurts to be stricken that way. Look at what happened to me. I was away from my mother for four years and then went back home to even more abuse. No one even knows what kind of abuse I went through when I was living at that Children’s Home. It was just as bad as being at home, really. Seemed like everyday someone was picking on me and telling me that I was a daddy’s whore and stuff like that. I remember one day when I was high school when this boy came up to me and asked me to do to him what I did with my father. Oh God how I freaked out. Someone told me I beat the crap out of him. I guess that was the highlight of my senior year. I did go to therapy while I was in high school, but it was really hard on me. Because my mom and her Tommy of an ass was always making me tell them what I told them. After a while I finally told them a bunch of lies because it only got me into more trouble when they found out what I had discussed with my therapist. I have no privacy at all I remember the day I had to tell my therapist about my being raped by my father. That was the hardest thing in the world for me to do. Having to face that part of my past was just horrible. I couldn’t even face the woman face to face. I had to sit in a chair with my back turned to her so she couldn’t see the pain on my face. I don’t even remember how I did it; I just remember making it thru the hour session and walking to the grocery store where my mom was. It was a regular routine. I even remember telling my mom that I finally told my therapist about it and she acted as if she didn’t even care. It was right then and there that I wondered to myself why she even fought so hard to get me back.
And, my other sister I haven’t even seen since I was in the 6th grade. My mom had her taken out of the house for smoking pot and stuff of that sort. She was a really bad person then. I really wish I knew how she was doing. My mom disowned her after she ran away and hooked back up with her friend. When I went to go and get her she pulled a gun on me. That was the most freakish thing ever. I don’t know much about her. I just remember what she looked like. She was such a beautiful girl. Popular and had tons of friends. I always wanted to be like her. I was pretty much a social outcast. I had hardly any friends, but I contributed that to my father for ruining my life, and breaking my self esteem. Some times I feel like I am in search of someone to love so I can feel needy enough for a companion. I don’t even know if that makes any sense to you. Probably not. It doesn’t make any sense to me either. I mean I know what I want to say, it’s just so very difficult to put it in the correct wording.
You made a comment about me looking inside of my own heart to find the happiness that was there. How can you be so sure that there is any? I know I don’t give myself the opportunity that I should to feel completely whole inside of myself, and within my soul. I guess it’s just hard for me to just let things lie, when I have so many questions running through my mind. I know that I am cheating myself out of my own happiness. But it’s kind of hard to find something or to feel like you have lost something when you feel like you never had it in the first place.
Moving on...
You said something about how much you loved me for saying that I wished I was like the wind. I do feel that way. A lot. The wind is the most peaceful relaxing form of happiness that I know. It doesn’t hold an image or anything like that at all. You can’t see it, but you can feel its warmth and beauty as it surrounds you. Unlike most things I truly believe that the wind could be a part of me. Some days I feel like I could float on the clouds and others I feel like a bad current in the ocean. It all depends on how I am feeling inside. And, what I am thinking. When I imagine myself being a part of something so magical and wonderful I can smile for no reason at all. The magnificence of feeling beautiful is something that is rare for me. My heart radiates from with in and pours out through the compassion in me. I feel loved, happy and care free. But for some odd reason it only lasts a short while. I feel like I have a Faded Heart sometimes. My heart is washed out and gray and has no color sometimes. Although I can feel the muscles beating and pounding behind my the wall of my chest, it just amazes me how something so invisible can pierce it like a knife, cold, and sharp and twisting with a jagged edge. You can’t see the pain as it enters but you can feel it rip you apart on the inside. The claw scratches and shreds every part of me as I sit and wait to die. Serrated from myself at a distance I can see the pain as it comes forward in a vague form of something I’m not used to. Worn out and bruised I feel myself drifting away into a different place so many times, it’s unimaginable. I don’t know if you or anyone else understands my pain, or what it means. I just know how much it hurts. And, I know that you don’t pretend to understand everything I am going through, you don’t have to. I just know that you are true in how you feel, and how you express yourself to me. I couldn’t ask for anything more in a friend. I cherish all of my friends. Whether it is Gayle, Ella, Pammie, Synthia, Tasha or you. I care and love for them all. No one knows how much they mean. I love everyone equally and just the same. Well, maybe except for one. I love Synthia differently. And, you know it as well as some others who read my diary. Huggers hun. I love you too. And, thank you soo much for sharing so much of yourself with me as well. Buhbye for now, or until you email me back, .Gawd forbid we have another long ass journey into our minds.Haha