"Self esteem is esteem of your muthaf*cken self."

Don't let anyone tell you you're not amazing. That you're not an
absolute catch. And especially don't let anyone, especially you, rain on
your parade. Self-esteem is important to every person, but like the first part of it is the truest part-- its your self.

What someone says may make you think you're not as great as you are, but hell it's up to you how much you let petty things that people say affect you.

2010

Dear 2010,

I know that our initial meeting was a bit strained-- I was cursing at the sun through the closed blinds and begging Lady Gaga for a refund on you. But I digress.

I'm writing you to let you know that you will soon be my bitch. Yes, it's true. This year I am going to get my ass in gear, and go H A R D. I'm sure you had plans for me, but I really don't care.

You may have had some romance lined up, but you can save it. I won't have time nor the desire to be courted or wooed. And honestly, I don't have much faith in your taste-- the people you've tried to surround me with so far are not the business. And frankly, 2009 ended on a high note in the guy department and I'd like to let sleeping dogs lie frankly.

Sex is always on the menu as far as I'm concerned but I really don't think I'm going to be having too much of it this year. I know I know, this isn't at all what you were expecting from me, based off what you heard from years past, but this is a new era. Get in line.

My hustle is going to be top shelf this year, so I cannot have you trying to distract, or detour me k? I thought I should write you while we're still getting to know each other and just let you know how this year is going to go down.

Yours truly,
T.

p.s. no. you may not dreg up exes or curveballs.

Why do you insist on breaking my heart?

Another fun filled morning with Mother, complete with more words designed to tear me down.

It has worked. Now stop.

I'm losing my shimmer.

I feel like less of Therese. Like all my personality and laughter and love and just overall shimmer is dimmed. I'm worried and stressed.

I hope I don't lose myself completely.

This is the first week of my life.

I've turned a new leaf. I'm determined, driven and focused now. Eyes on the prize. Which is good because I'm done with bad decisions and worse company.

I've got so many things to do, and not much time to do them. At least not if I intend to take over the world before I'm 35.

Let's get this show on the road shall we?

Tonight and the rest of my life...

...I'm gonna love me more than I love someone else.
...I'm going to do what I need before I consider what someone else wants.
...I'm going to be the baddest bitch I can.
...I'm going to write more often, even if it's just flow of consciousness drivel.
...I'm never going to sell myself short.
...I'm never going to settle.
...I'm going to stick to my guns.
...I won't give in.

...is mine, and I'm doing it right.

I'll have you know

I've grown in all of this. This heartbreak and whatevership nonsense I've put myself through. I've learned all kinds of things.

I've learned what I want and don't want in a boyfriend. I've learned that I am exactly as feminine, sexy, and loveable as I want to be. I've learned that there is such a thing as a person who cares about you enough to know what you want before you want it.

I've also learned that in the event of heartbreak, I've got the best support network anyone could ever ask for. I've learned that hopes and prayers aren't always enough. I've learned that sometimes we just need to let go and let God.

I've learned that it's ok to be afraid to love, but it's not ok to let that hold me back. I've learned that someone not loving you back in the way you want them to isn't the end of your life, it's just a temporary road block-- once you're done letting it define you, it'll dissipate.

I've learned it's okay to wallow, but only for a little bit. I've learned that when you want to cry and scream, to ask your best friend to do it with you, she has stuff to unleash too.

Finally, I've learned that I love him, and I love him for teaching me just how much I love myself and how right I am to do so. Thank you for that, if I can ever repay the favor, please let me know.

Breaking my own heart.

It just doesn't get any easier. No matter what vague advice or psuedo-fortune cookie like bullshit I feed myself. I can blame timing, hormones, and fucking Nicholas Sparks for all I want, but it won't change the fact that I'm hurt.

I'm hurting. I'm breaking my own heart. I'm a million and a half things, all just boiling over under the air tight lid of my facade. But in truth, I'm crushed. I don't know how long this will hurt-- there's never been a formula for it. And it certainly doesn't help that the guy, who stomped on my heart, wasn't even a boyfriend when he did it.

No, I'm practically obliterated over someone who I wasn't important enough to to get him to commit. That's a stupid mistake on my part, and I'll accept my part of the blame there. I'm a fool who hoped that this...this, whatever "this" is, would be something to change my life. And for a time it was.

He changed my outlook, my self esteem and my aversion to intimacy. I won't hold it against him-- my good riddance list for him isn't a great thing any how. I'd like to look back fondly, and wish him well. Not a single part of me wants to wish him ill, on the contrary, I hope and pray he finds a woman who he cannot live without, a woman who will appreciate everything he has to offer. I hope he and this woman life happily ever after.

He's a fantastic guy. He makes me laugh, he makes me feel feminine, he never allowed me to think less of myself. He is the third love of my life. I believe in "one person for everyone", but I'm a realist. A single person changes, or should change, over the course of their life, so wouldn't it make sense that what their "soulmate" would entail change with them?

I've changed, and for a time he fits in the LOML position. I didn't, don't and probably won't fit into his, but that's not a requirement for it. I loved and gave whole heartedly...I did everything I could do. Everything I would've wanted done for me.

I love you, but I can't keep breaking my own heart. If I ever fit into the LOML position for you, let me know. Who knows, maybe in the future after you've grown, we'll be what each other is looking for. I wish you laughter, love and a long life.

It's been hard.

I literally feel like I've dug a big hole and am now sitting in it, looking up at the sky as it moves, hearing people talk and laugh as they pass by my little fort, and little by little my hole starts to feel more and more like a grave.

It's all falling to hell and I really feel like this is only the beginning of the craziness my life is going to become.

saboteur.

I'm not the best person; I'm stubborn, a sociopath, and I have a shitty attitude sometimes. But really in all of this, not once have I been asked how I feel, how all this is affecting me. I know how it's affecting everyone else, I've been hearing all about it, but really I'd like to just have someone listen to me-- really listen-- and understand what I'm dealing with.

I sabotage myself, so hearing someone else just reverberate back to me what I'm doing, doesn't do anything. I'm well aware of what I'm doing, and sadly I can't do anything to change it or stop it. If I were short sighted I'd be a cutter, but self-injury isn't enough. So I sabotage my future, I write essays and do assignments and I don't turn them in, or I get rid of them. Once I did a group project, and handed my stuff to a girl on her way into the class with instructions to give it to my group and went home to cry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why this happens, but it's something I've done for ages.

I wish I knew how to change it, it'd help me with all this stress that's for certain. But instead I sit here, praying to change, planning how to fuck up next, and wishing I were someone else.

Memory.

Human memory is a tenuous thing; a sound, a smell, a song can all transport you back to the moment you identify that trigger with. Sometimes its a good memory, and you smile at the thought of it, but when its a bad memory, its like a bad taste in your mouth, you can't go back to the way you felt before the memory. It lingers all day, at the edge of your thoughts, and try as you might you can't quite shake the funk.

"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" struck a chord within me because I have memories I wish I could just delete all together, and go on with my life none the wiser-- ignorance is bliss, bliss I wish I could partake of just this once. But that's not the hand I've been dealt in life, so I'm going to try to stop complaining about it, but days like this I just wish I could put the memories in a box and toss the box in the back of my closet, to worry about another day.

Who said answers don't fall into your lap?

I've been struggling with some demons lately, and the forefront of my stress is that I am utterly terrified of falling back into old "habits". At rehearsal I, quite literally, had a sign fall into my lap. It was something I wrote about a year ago:

"To tell you the truth, I don't know when it all started. The restlessness, the unhappiness. One day I woke up and found that my life was no longer enough to hold my interests. That's a bad sign. when you yourself cannot convince yourself that you are interesting or worthwhile. I never wanted pity or to drag someone else down with me into my own personal private hell-- so I internalized. There is a reason one shouldn't internalize. It comes back-- nothing will stop something from coming out if it wants nothing but to be seen or heard.

So I took to writing, to funnel a jarred and twisted, albeit innocent, childhood, a frustrated and rocky adolescence, and an awkward adulthood into imaginary people. To take my shortcomings, rises and falls, and memories and give them to someone else. It helped immensely. Its amazing and I love it, the freedom that comes with anonymity. I could be anyone, do anything, and no one would judge me or call me ridiculous because it was fiction. A work of my mind and my heart. With my writing I could take the bad moments and feed it into a poor soul, and then lead them to a world of wonders where the would face their demons and win. Conquering the world, and living happily ever after. But it has become my undoing, I am envious of people that don't exist, of people that I created. I found refuge from my darker days but created a new realm of evil and self directed rage.

Pretending that I am fine-- pretending I was as normal as everyone else, as normal as everyone else wanted me to be-- was easy for a time, but all good things come to an end. It began to irk me that I couldn't embrace myself-- it's not to say that I didn't show others my true self, it was that I couldn't personally reconcile who I have become with who I was. I can't draw a line differentiating the two, nor can I see how it is so easy for others. People are generally harder on themselves, and I am no different. But I cannot seem to forgive myself for things I had no control over.

It's the victim mentality that most battered children fall into, and the remaining problms that arise differ person to person. I myself have a martyr complex, and a self destructive streak. I tend to sabotage myself, and overload myself-- pretty much to punish myself, to ensure that even in happiness I'm setting myself up to fail sooner or later. That's one of my problems. I'm punishing myself for something I had nor will I ever have control over. I can't change the past, and I can't make myself forget. Though I desperately wish I could. That's what we all wish, to not own these memories anymore; to be able to take back our innocense. To be able to be free.

And now I'm scarred from it. I can't have normal, functioning relationships, even the idea of letting someone in seems dangerous. No matter how happy we are, how flawless we are, I can't shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen. Trust is given too freely, too willingly from me, because I want to be proven wrong-- that there ARE people who won't hurt me. But therein lies my paradox, in my efforts to be proven wrong, I'm all too often proven correct. That makes for even bigger complexes to arise.

As a survivor, I seek love and acceptance because it's an affirmation that what's happened doesn't define me. I want to know that I define me. I need to know that my past won't mark me, ruin me, or keep me from being me."

This shows me that I've grown from this; that I'm going to keep growing. Nothing in life is easy, and when have I ever had it easy? I'm a boss bitch, and I'm no longer the poor girl who tried to find the answers in other people. I'm in this for me, and mines. You're on my team, or you need to get out of the way.

"Blue Blanket"

this is a poem sent to me by one of my very closest friends. she is fantastic about knowing me and my limits; she knew I'd appreciate this poem. So I'm putting it up here for everyone to read, please absorb the message. I know exactly what I'm going to teach my son.

"BLUE BLANKET" by Andrea Gibson

still
there are days
when there is no way
not even a chance
that i'd dare for even a second
glance at the reflection of my body in the mirror
and she knows why

like i know why
she
only cries
when she feels like she's about to lose control
she knows how much control is worth
knows what a woman can lose
when her power to move
is taken away
by a grip so thick with hate
it could clip the wings of god
leave the next eight generations of your blood shaking
and tonight something inside me is breaking
my heart beating so deep beneath the sheets of her pain
i could give every tear she's crying
a year---a name
and a face i'd forever erase from her mind if i could

just like she would
for me
or you
but how much closer to free would any of us be
if even a few of us forgot
what too many women in this world cannot
and i'm thinking
what the hell would you tell your daughter
your someday daughter
when you'd have to hold her beautiful face
to the beat up face of this place
that hasn't learned the meaning of
stop

what would you tell your daughter
of the womb raped empty
the eyes swollen shut
the gut too frightened to hold food
the thousands upon thousands of bodies used and abused
it was seven minutes of the worst kind of hell
seven
and she stopped believing in heaven
distrust became her law
fear her bible
the only chance of survival
don't trust any of them

bolt the doors to your home
iron gate your windows
walking to your car alone
get the keys in the lock
please please please please open
like already you can feel
that five fingered noose around your neck
two hundred pounds of hatred
digging graves into the sacred soil of your flesh

please please please please open
already you're choking for your breath
listening for the broken record of the defense
answer the question
answer the question
answer the question miss

why am i on trial for this

would you talk to your daughter
your sister your mother like this
i am generations of daughters sisters mothers
our bodies battlefields
war grounds
beneath the weapons of your brother's hands
do you know they've found land mines
in broken women's souls
black holes in the parts of their hearts
that once sang symphonies of creation
bright as the light on infinity's halo

she says
i remember the way love
used to glow like glitter on my skin
before he made his way in
now every touch feels like a sin
that could crucify medusa kali oshun mary
bury me in a blue blanket
so their god doesn't know i'm a girl
cut off my curls
i want peace when i'm dead

her friend knocks at the door
it's been three weeks
don't you think it's time you got out of bed

no
the ceiling fan still feels like his breath
i think i need just a couple more days of rest
please

bruises on her knees from praying to forget
she's heard stories of vietnam vets
who can still feel the tingling of their amputated limbs
she's wondering how many women are walking around this world
feeling the tingling of their amputated wings
remembering what it was to fly to sing

tonight she's not wondering
what she would tell her daughter
she knows what she would tell her daughter
she'd ask her
what gods do you believe in
i'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them!

pick the brightest star you've ever wished on
i'll show you the light in you
that made that wish come true!

tonight she's not asking
you what you would tell your daughter
she's life deep in the hell---the slaughter
has already died a thousand deaths with every unsteady breath
a thousand graves in every pore of her flesh
and she knows the war's not over
knows there's bleeding to come
knows she's far from the only woman or girl
trusting this world no more than the hands
trust rusted barbed wire
she was whole before that night
believed in heaven before that night
and she's not the only one
she knows she won't be the only one

she's not asking what you're gonna tell your daughter
she asking what you're gonna teach

your son

I'm being swallowed up.

I feel entirely consumed with apathy, lightly seasoned of course with grief and self hatred. I have no earthly idea what brought about this shitty day, but they come and go. I used to go years without one, but as time went on they're more frequent and they stay longer-- I've had to initiate a 24 hour rule on myself. I'll allow myself to feel like this for one day, but after that I've got to snap out of it or try not to dwell on it.

Years of self-hatred, remorse, guilt, anger, resentment and utter sadness seemingly bottled up to enjoy in the concentrated, condensed form? Who wouldn't want some? Who doesn't want to feel like they're not safe in their own home, in their own body, in their own mind? Certainly not me! I love feeling like a walking mental case, a ticking time bomb of emotional unrest. Mmmmhhh, that's me, the train wreck.

I'm tired of feeling this way, and I'm really over thinking this way. I finally love myself, and at the same time I feel like I've just set myself over a greater distance to fall. It's times like this the similar broken examples of humanity would turn to cutting, to drugs, to sex-- me, I tried using all of the aforementioned as crutches in their own time. Nothing held the allure of self-destruction, of self-annihilation though, and I felt that was further proof of my broken mind-- I don't want to be me anymore, but can't find a weapon of choice.

This is why I'm fucked up: my mood swings are wide and vast, this will be over, with any luck, by morning; I crave love because it feels like it fixes the broken bits of me; I need sex because it eases the pain of the past; I can't shake that feeling that something bad will happen during times where it really has no bearing. I just really don't know what to do with myself at this point in time.

I was once told I was someone's rock, I was their emotional foundation-- they killed themselves. How does that make me feel? I've been used, abused, screwed, fucked, bruised, killed, and everything you could think of-- I'm not a total fuck up, I'm not some whore, I'm not a mass murdering psychopath. If anything my totally cocked up life would grant me some kind of peace now that I'm out of the gambit, but no, instead I've got demons to fight in my own subconcious.

I don't make sense any more.

I'm not even asking you to change your Facebook status.

I was up late talking to Candice after hanging out with friends and we really talked for a long time about guys and relationshits, and we've noticed a trend. In many cases, the female is the sole pursuer and the guy is just sitting in the wings, waiting to be fetched. Dude, I don't have time for that-- I'm a busy bitch.

I don't have time for a relationshit, but I still want that companionship that comes with it you know? I'm not asking you to marry me, I certainly am not asking you to rearrange your life around me (because God knows I won't for you), and don't assume I want you to be anything you don't want to be. In all honesty if I could in a way "rent" a boyfriend that'd take the cake.

I just want a boy I can have some laughs with, have fun, seriously talk to and kiss. That's quite literally all I have time for haha time for friends, so any guy I'm with would be like a glorified friend-with-benefits. We don't have to be exclusive, nor text everyday, just as long as when we're together its just me. I am open minded to a fault, but I will not take feeling used, or cheap.

I don't want weekly dates nor do I need us to constantly be together. I'm independent and busy as hell, so if our time together could be like a mini vacation almost, that'd be excellent. Maybe when one of us has a crazy test, afterwards we could hang out and just unwind, or even study together for midterms. That'd be charming and very thoughtful. However, I'm not saying I just want to stay in, that gets tiresome. Take me out when I've been in a mood, or just surprise me.

I want to be able to talk -- like really T A L K-- to a guy, about serious and trivial things. I don't like having to make all conversation on my own, and then get a look like "what is she going on about?" If you can woo my mind, you're a shoo in. There's very little that's sexier or more intriguing than a guy who can hold his own in a debate with me or can actually teach me something I didn't know. But don't get cocky, please, arrogance is not attractive on anyone. Self-confidence and self-assurance are both very great qualities for a guy to have, but once you reach doucher levels and cross into arrogant twat, then we've got a problem.

I'm not asking for you to buy me anything, I'm not asking for us to get a dog together, I'm not even asking you to move in with me. I just want a guy to make me feel special and like a lady, I just want a guy to fit and at the same time not fit so we'll have separate lives. I don't want a boyfriend, per say, I want someone to fit my idea of a boyfriend, because frankly I don't have time for much more than that. I'd like my "boyfriend" to be busy as well, so I'm not feeling like I have to hold back and entertain you.

If you are intimidated by someone who knows what they want or how they want it, you need not even apply. I'm not even asking for submissions, just keep in mind that not all girls need constant attention, nor showers of praise; if you tried that I'd just assume you were lying half the time anyway. I just am tired of people saying that I don't know what I want or that I'm too picky-- I am what I am, take it or leave it. I'm straight forward and don't have time for bullshit, so if that makes me an undate-able bitch in your mind, then so be it-- I don't have time for boys, sissies or idiots.

I need a man to be a man. I'm tired of always having to be the guy, to be the pursuer. I want to be wooed, pursued and seduced just as much as the next girl, so stop acting like I signed up to be the boy. I'm not saying I want you to open doors or order at restaurants for me, but no means would I ever mean that, I just want a guy to step up to the plate, take the lead, the initiative.

I'm not asking for much, I'm not asking for the universe tucked into a Juicy purse, I won't even ask you to change your Facebook status, something so trivial and small, all I ask is you be a guy I can laugh with, talk to, kiss and escape reality with for a bit.

I'm terrified.

Thinking about the future today has got me shaken because I'm realizing somethings:

I am absolutely terrified. Terrified of going, terrified of staying. Just terrified.

If I go, then there's the fear of failure, the fear of my self destructive tendecies totally going off the deep end. The utter fear that if I go, that my family will have nothing to do with me.

If I stay, I'm afraid I'll never leave, that I'll never accomplish the things I've set out before me. If I stay I'll beocme complacent and my self destructive sabatoage will take a crazier form I'm certain.

I'm also terrified that I'll never become anything because I'm not good enough for society//the establishments I seek to join. Sure, I know I'm talented, but is it enough or the right kind for my goals? What if I don't get into USC and I don't get published because it's not what they're looking for?

I'm absolutely terrified.

It comes down to this.

This is a blog of everything I'd like to say to Brian, my aunt's exhusband. I've had a hard few days, and I think a purge is just what I need:

I have to constantly tell myself that you aren't the issue anymore. I need to shake the dust of you, and sadly to this day it hurts. You took away my innocence, and my trust of all men. To this day when I'm alone with a man I have to reassure myself that I'm not going to be hurt. I have to remind myself that I will never allow myself to be a victim again, and that I have surrounded myself with people who won't allow it either. When someone brings up rape, molestation or sexual battery I cringe internally-- my heart literally free falls into my stomach where it has seizures. Sadly, for the longest time I've thought that I should have done something, said something to stop you. But I know now that it wouldn't have done me any good, and it's not my fault. It's not my fault you're a fucked up, pathetic guy-- a sad lost little boy who has to molest kids to get his jollies. There's no excusing what you've done, there's no apology or explanation you could give me that would justify it. And if you ever even tried I'd rip you apart with my bare fucking hands, but as it is you'll never try. You're proud, for whatever reason, and for you to admit you're in the wrong goes against your grain. So I'll just fill in the blanks and forgive you. I'll forgive you for ruining my life, for ruining my innocence, for ruining my childhood, for ruining my hopes for ever living a normal life. But I'll be damned if I ever trust you or forget what you've done. I won't be like you, this cycle of abuse ends with me. I couldn't, and never would cause someone to feel like I have for years. Self-hatred, pity, remorse, disgust, depression, anger-- all for something they had no say in, no control over. NEVER. I won't come after you, and I won't tell my father-- more for his sake than yours, though you do deserve for him to come after you and make you suffer-- instead I'll leave it in God's hands. He'll deal with you more justly than I could ever imagine. Enjoy the rest of your tainted, empty, and evil life-- I just hope the afterlife is worth it for your horrible life. But I will give you this warning, if you do ANYTHING to my cousins, or any one else in my family, I will do something about it. I can promise that with everything I am or ever will be.

you are so amazingly wrong for me

It continues to surprise me when I realize how completely off base some people's lives are. They have no direction or sense of purpose. I may feel completely overwhelmed at times, but at least it's all building up for something.

There may be times when I feel like I've lost my center, and I'm like a boat lost at see with no rudder, sail or compass. But at least I've got a support system, and a group of people who know me through and through and I can dump my problems into their lap and they'll just sort through it and give me a solution I'd never have seen.

I might be out of sorts, a bitch, and scatter-brained, but I'm single-minded to the point of recklessness, driven, and straight forward. When I'm big, famous and in your face, you'll realize that I called this ages back. I didn't stop working towards it, even when I was drowning in hard times, confusion and frustrations.

It'll take more than anything this life can dish out to me. God led me to it, He'll lead me through it, and best believe our plan involves me changing the world.

oh me oh my.

Life is a tad jumbled now, hence the gap in posting. But holiday season is kicking in so I've practically sold my soul to the Dirrty Bird ©. Let's get a jump on this post shall we?

I recently got my body touched, and that opened an entire can of worms. He's got a girlfriend, and I figured that'd work to my benefit because I'm not looking for a relationshit. Well, he's crumbled under the pressure I guess, because he's dropped the ball. That's not the annoying part-- it's the regression he's suddenly taken. It's very junior high: the slinking around in my view in the hopes to make me watch him, the talking about me with his friends so there's a little mob throwing not-subtle-at-all glances my way, the whole NOT TEXTING thing. ugh, ridiculous. We're both adults, let's handle this in an adult way. Whatever.

I'm so overwhelmed lately that I've taken a mental health week, but now I need to get back in the grind. I need to finish "Haunted", my prompt book for "Pygmalion", my set design for "Antony and Cleopatra", and the 30 billion other things I've pushed back. I don't want to get behind schedule, but I also don't need a mental break down. That would push the schedule even further, and we can't have that. Oh crap, that reminds me, I've got to start working on my monologues and my USC essays.

I am reaffirming something I've believed in all my life: you should only fall in love if you've got an amazing story behind it. You're going to have to retell this story at PTA functions, your wedding, dinner parties, etc, so why not have a great story to tell? I refuse to fall in love unless we've got an interesting story to tell, I am fabulous enough for an even greater love than "high school sweethearts" or whatever, so I am going to demand what I deserve.

My friends are fantastic, and supportive, and hilarious. Throughout everything I'm going through, mucking around in or avoiding they've got something to offer. Thanks you guys for being amazing and keeping me sane =]

Rejected.

At this point, being in this house is hurting me: emotionally, physically, mentally. I'm physically ill because of the depression that just hits me the longer I'm under this roof. Emotionally everything that happens is just another load on my already crushed back, and I'm at that point where all I can do is lay on my floor and bawl. Mentally, I'm sinking back into my old ways-- I'm fighting it with all I have but I can't do this alone.

My mother, one of the reasons I went into depression in my dark ages, has settled back into her old ways it seems. I'm being ignored and rejected over a misunderstanding-- one she didn't even want to hear my side of and just called me a liar over. This is how it always is between us. I'll do something below her standards or upset her, I'll be systematically ignored, alienated and rejected by my entire family under her orders. There's no better way to make someone feel useless than to show them that you care more about other things than their own flesh and blood. They're likely to drive me to my grave before they realize that I'm cracking. I'm putting on a brave face, but it really does cut deep, thinking that no one loves you.

I'm not welcome in my own house by my own family. How is that supposed to make me feel? Warm and toasty inside? No. I feel utterly insignificant, I feel invisible, I feel unloved. I feel like one day I'm going to come home and find the locks changed and all my stuff gone. My stuff is already mysteriously vanishing throughout the house and when I was looking for some of it earlier I was regarded and then ignored in the same breath. That's how I know she has it, and isn't going to give it back. It's so good to know that my family is so mature.

My only solace is that this time I know that these feelings aren't true this time. I know that I'm loved, and cared for. That I'm needed and wanted--even if its not by my family. I just pray with everything I have that they don't stop loving my brothers like they do me. I couldn't handle it knowing that Deezle or Petuhcha were to be crying themselves to sleep, in the shower, and on the ride to school.

I am so overwhelmed with life that I need my family to help me to support me, but I can't even get the to acknowledge my existence. This doesn't bode well for the rest of my punctuated life. I just have no way of waving a white flag for a truce; this mind fuck continues until I'm good and broken. I can't keep living like this, it's like waiting till I'm dying.