Don't speak. Let me in.

(Razor cuts and a bleeding heart-}
{2003-04-11} {3:06 a.m.}

I was just sitting here thinking about what I should write about. And I suppose you wonder why I am up so early. Well, partly because I went to bed at 9 pm and because I was mostly sick yesterday. I had a lot of weird dreams and woke up at 12 30 am. The weirdest dream I had was the one where I kept thinking about diaryland links. Yes I know. I am eccentric. Maybe I was abducted by aliens. It would explain a lot, if you ask me. I get severe headaches when I think too long. I feel like it’s some kind of cerebral deficiency within me. Maybe I’m not supposed to think so much. Or maybe it could be due to a lot of stress. Yes, stress. I have so much of it anymore. Gah!

Speaking of stress, Officer Schwartz came over yesterday, along with a DCFS worker. I had to give him a timeline of events of when things happened when I first moved here, and how I met our former babysitter/pervert person. It was really distressing, because I didn’t want to converse about it. Some things are really complicated for me. Just the thought of the word pedophile makes me cringe. It’s a disgusting filthy word. It’s just so…revolting. I sometimes wonder what goes thru the mind of a person like that, or a killer. How can they live with themselves knowing that they basically dissected a child’s innocence and love for life?

I believe that pedophiles are murderers too. Why do I categorize it like that? Well, I think it is pretty simple. Think about how it would make you feel, knowing that your child had just been assaulted or molested. That perpetrator just killed all of the innocence your child just had. Murdering their soul, scrapping away what little bit of love they had left. Leaving only a morsel of hope. Shredding away every bit of self esteem they have. How can a child respect themselves after suffering such an ordeal? The sycophancy of losing something so dear to you becomes such obsequiousness, with flattery from others trying to make you feel valuable and less lifeless inside. But for some reason the preciousness that was lost can never be replaced. You go thru life trying to restore that innocence that was raped, looking for a love that makes you feel complete. It never comes along tho. I have been fighting with mine like this for years. I think that when I met my ex that I was feeling inadequate inside as a person, and thought that I would never find a real love. Thinking that I was never good enough to be loved, or love someone in return. I stayed with him for years, until this last year. I couldn’t take the abuse anymore. I always felt unclean and tainted. My heart has felt impure and contaminated for years. I don’t know if I will ever be able to regain what was lost.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to live a happy, normal life? One with out heartache, and passive insinuations, that leave you with even more scars? Reflecting on an acquiescent priority takes precedence over anything else. You fall short at the dreams you hoped for, losing all ambition and desire to achieve a better personality in yourself.

Failing in a life of something you had hoped for can be like taking a razor and slitting your wrists. Your heart bleeds from a lifetime of failures and false achievements, leaving only a wounded heart, bruised and scarred.

I hope that whoever is reading this never has to endure the pain and heartache that I have. I feel so defenseless among everything that crosses my path. I try to put up a wall so I can’t get hurt, but it never works out to my advantage. I will talk to someone and tell them things about myself, and then I am attached. Just like that. I wish that I could be more like Andrea sometimes. Although being cold and heartless is not my specialty. I guess it fits her and the image she portrays. I dunno anymore. She sure isn’t the person that I met 3 years ago.

As I sit here and reflect on the past month, I am grateful that I have met so many wonderful people and have allowed them to be a part of my life. To some I am considered a Best Friend. To others I may seem shallow and self centered. I know I am not, though. I can’t be that way to other people. Sometimes I feel like I am trying to get as many friends as I can to love me so I will feel some kind of something inside. I know the people that love me the most. Whether it be Synthia to Jennifer, to Jessie to Tasha, to Pammie or Ella. Some loves are different and some are stronger than others. I can’t explain this need I have for a wanting of needing to be loved. I just know that I do. Without it my heart would bleed.

Well, I am sorry that I dragged you through the muddle of my past and inner feelings once again. I must go now. I am feeling pretty bad again and must go lay down. Hugs to everyone. And do me a favor, If and when you do have children. Protect them like you would protect your heart. Don’t go through the ringer like me. It’s not worth the pain and heartache. Trust me. If I could lend you any advice right now, I wouldn’t even know how to say what I am thinking. Just know that my thoughts are always in disarray because I can never intelligently say what it that is on my mind.

-Absence of death-

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