| “What’s wrong?” No answer. “Talk to me. What’s the matter” “I really don’t want to talk about it…goodnight.” So I cut again and now I don’t know how I feel. I can’t even explain it to myself. Of course I feel wonderfully better, but it’s weird. It’s like I feel nothing now. The anxiety and gloom is gone. I no longer feel like everyone hates me, but I don’t feel anything else either. I’m so calm that it scares me! I was thinking today, in my newfound lack of emotion, that I could do it again; that I could cut, just so that I felt something, so I knew I was still alive. And now I am afraid. I don’t know what all this means. I don’t know if me cutting again makes me weak and uncontrolled, which is a change because before I would be more than ready to condemn myself. I don’t know if me cutting again proves that I’ll never stop. Is it really an addiction? I’m not sure of it medically, but practically it must be conquerable like other purposeful behaviors. I might feel like I can’t stop, but that’s hardly the case. I also don’t know where I go from here. Should I go back to therapy? Is it really going to help? Or should I just use my common sense and rely on what I know, what I’ve learned to overcome this? I bought razors today. When I got home way too early at 11:30, I went to Rite Aid and came back. There was nothing to eat so I had ice cream, so much for diet and exercise, and watched TV. I went to sleep around 3:00pm and woke up at about 9:00pm. It’s 6:30am now and I’m heading off to bed, maybe I’ll fall asleep soon. January 16. 2002 My mother’s concerned that I don’t sleep enough. Oh well. I stayed up all night last night. I have this thing, where all of a sudden I’ll be fixated on some thing. I’ll find a new hobby or a new game or style of music and spend hours on end sometimes days doing it. My newest obsession is my little brother’s Pokemon game. It reminds me of the best game series in history, the Legend Of Zelda. So whatever, at night, I’ll start around ten and about 1:30, when my thumbs are falling off, I’ll stop, only to go to a more permanent obsession, Anne Rice. While I love her and all, one thing is negatively outstanding. Like most people in the world, she is not…a Christian as the bible describes, which I am striving to be. As I’ve come to know and abhor, my biggest temptation is sexual and sometimes Anne Rice is not helpful at all. She’s an awesome writer though, and I love her to death. But I say all this to say-one of Yvette’s expressions-that after Pokemon last night, I settled down at about 1:40ish to read a couple of chapters in The Feast of All Saints. It’s really good, it’s a bout The Free People Of Color in the mid 1800’s. So I read and I read and them my mother, and let me just say, I don’t want to know why my parents never sleep. It used to be that they’d pop up in the living room every hour to see if I was asleep;. Am I keeping them from sex? I hope so. At all hours of the night, I hear them walking and opening doors and closing them. I mean, eventually they’d go to sleep but it would always be after asking me, “you still awake?” “you’re not going to sleep tonight?” and I’d be on the couch watching TV or reading, but I never went to sleep before three.. Oh and about the couch, I have a bed, it’s really big and quite comfortable, but I never sleep in it, unless we have company and their on the couch. Once my brother was sleeping in it and asked me to sleep with him (he’s four) and I did. I’m not quite sure why, but I hate sleeping in that bed. One of life’s great mysteries, I guess. I sleep in my parents bed sometimes, if I can get there before they do and establish myself in the room. If I fall asleep there, they’ll sleep in my bed, which is bigger. But back to the point of me not sleeping…my parents have calmed down with what seemed the hourly checking. So at about seven, I hear them getting up. I had maybe ten pages left and it dawned on me that I’d spent all night reading this book. (Why can’t I do that when I’m studying?) She comes in and, “why don’t you go to sleep?” she asked in the sense of ‘why don’t you go to sleep at nigh, is there something wrong?’ she was concerned. And I don’t want her to be concerned about me, I don’t want her to care about me, I don’t want her to know I’m alive. The only time she talks to me is one of three reasons: to ‘ask’ me to wash something, or to clean it, or to say how unfair it is that she has to cook or clean or whatever. And these are times when she grates on my nerves and I don’t care at all what she thinks is fair. She’s never concerned about anything real. When I told her that her best friend had tried to literally get into my pants, she didn’t believe me and didn’t care…so why care about me now? And I feel that I need to say that I love my mother and these feeling of not caring are not real, that is not lasting, I know in two days I’ll feel completely different. Eh Bien. My father hardly talks to at all and when he does it’s either to disapprove of me or ask some stupid question that shows how much he doesn’t know me. the other day he asked why he hadn’t heard about my ‘boyfriend” which is a favorite theme of this family. If he knew me at all, he would know that I hadn’t had a boyfriend since, me in my infinite wisdom, I declared I was in love at sixteen and was blissful for about a year. I have my own issues with men and a I’m not sending out a search party for another one. But then he continues to ask if I’m having sex. I find that I idea very frightening. I hope I feel differently when I get married, because my husband may be willing to be a lot more intimate that I will allow myself. Anyway, my fathers is incredulous that I haven’t “…tried a little thing..” and presses as to why not. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels like he’s pressuring me to have sex and it’s been that way for a long time. When I was home last he kept trying to tell me how to use the satellite dish codes to watch porno’s and when I refused to listen he was angry. “I really don’t want to watch that.” “I’m just letting you know that if you do…” “I don’t.” “…but if you do, I don’t mind. I don’t really watch it myself, but your mother likes it and if you want to use it it’s okay with me.” |