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Monday, February 21, 2011

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I still feel like I'm trapped.

Again

Monday, February 7, 2011

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Its like finger nails, digging into the back of my skull.
Its the screaming, ear splinting that makes me feel so small.
Its the demon, looming over me, sharp teeth protruding from its gaping maw.

I'm the bird, thought to be free of its cage,
Only to realize to late, I'll always be its slave.
The illusion of freedom draped in patriotic words,
The force fed name of sanity, preached and slurred.

Burned from the agony of a rotting mind,
Decaying thoughts, dying time,
Lying just to stay alive,
seeing now I was always blind.

To this fate I've been binded.
Look on, no ones ever minded.
I've bled my thoughts from pen to paper,
I've watched my words drift away like vapor.
I've dreaded every waking hour,
As you watch glowering from you asure tower.

My dreams following me in my waking,
So real it leaves me aching,
Dreams of cold blades to cold stone,
Of ground rittled in my bones,
To wretched to live alone.

A wretch I am, in my mind, alone.

.

Friday, November 5, 2010

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I've just stopped gagging for the first time in a couple hours. My throat is sore from wrenching. My face is wet from tears, my eyes are swollen and sore.
My skin is blotchy and red, my lip has bite marks in it.
I'm cold, I'm suicidal, I'm scared, I'm in shock, I want Andy...I need Andy.
I'm falling apart.
I'm stubbornly telling myself, over and over, "Its not true."
But it is...it is.

Run

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

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I dream of running away.
Almost obsessively.
I dream of running away, running until I have no money. Running until I'm somewhere where no one knows who I am. No one knows where I am, and I never tell them. Not until years and years later at least.
Stay somewhere...somewhere like Washington. Cold...rainy...forest, ocean. Perfect culmination of everything I love.
Write. Write until everyones stories are finished. Seth...Liz...Lucar...Gabriel....Abby and Kira...Violet...Anna, Rio, her love...on and on there names flood through my head until all their voices make it almost unbearable.
I would write, and walk to the ocean, gaze out across it, and wonder the things I wonder. Where will I be in my old age? Will I be alone? Will my mind ever calm down? Will I die before mental illness grips me and erases what makes me me?
Will I still be the same person? Who will lay in my bed and love me late at night when a nightmare rattles me to the core. Will I have children, later. Will they love me, will I be a good mother? Will things ever be like they were when I was little with my parents? Where will my characters go, who's heart will their stories touch. Who's pain will they ease? How much longer before I'm really, truly happy?

I would live for me, for once. Thoughts unburdened by what is best for everyone else. All about me, even if only for a little while.
I'd walk through the woods, always hunting for evidence of the werewolves I know lurk there in the shadows, just out of sight of my petty mortal view.
I'd search every rock and fallen hallowed tree for signs of faeries, sprites, and pixies.
I'd be content.

I dream of it so often I can picture what my house looks like. What I can hear from my bedroom balcony. Huddled deep into a outdoor chair, wrapped in a afghan, late at night, my notebook illuminated by moon and star light, chewing absentmindedly on a pen tip.
A tea or coffee wouldn't be far out of my grasp, steam rolling off it in beautiful wisps of forgotten memories.
I'd be so far away from everything and everyone. Every harsh word, the endless drama, deep probing stare of someone I dislike, questioning eye's that I have no answer to give to make there unwavering stare blink.
So far away only God would know where I was.
I wish...I could stop dreaming about it. I really do. Its like holding candy just out of hand reach of a small child.
Its unpleasant and cruel. For once I wish my mind would listen to me and just...shut up.

The Day I've Had...

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

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So, today at Caleb's I wake up after I night of crying and nightmares. My arms were sore from punching the back of the couch and hitting the wall behind it.
I'm still not sure how I didn't wake anyone up.
But anyway...and btw, this is at Caleb's house, not mine. I woke up to hear Amanda's voice. I notice that all the lights are off and the house is almost unbearably freezing.
I get up and stumble my way into the dining room where I find Amanda, Molly, Maria and Arra standing, all looking pissed.
Amanda's blow and starts going off. I'm still groggy but quickly wake up after hearing the power is off.
Caleb didn't pay his bills, again.
Amanda came over to try to turn the power back on, she was going to pay for it herself, but they wouldn't except it.
I hear dad knows, right after that, he walks in.
By this time we are on the front porch. He starts yelling says the F word, I get freaked out. All I said was "Dad" and he turns on me, eyes popping, face red, and jams a finger in my face saying, DON'T.
I could feel the tears pushing at the back of my eyes, but I refused to look away. I knew everyone was staring at me, I knew Molly's eyes were probably watery, but I wouldn't look away from the eyes with the fire spot in it. My instinct to not look away and prove he had power over me pushed past my want to cry because my father had come close to hitting me.
His finger hung a inch or two from my face, shaking, for a few moments before he lowered it looking ashamed.
I glanced over in time to see Molly, Maria, and Amanda look quickly down at the ground. My gaze found the ugly outdoor carpet too, no one moving until the screen door slammed shut.

Amanda took us out to lunch, and after that we went to her apartment to grab a few things, then out to my house where Maria and me took the kids outside to try to tire them out.
The whole time I'm getting angrier and angrier. I know for a fact that he has enough money in the bank to pay the bills. Hell, he has enough money in the bank right now to pay off his mortgage probably. I know he'll have a thousand and one excuses. A million words pouring from his lips in a mumbled jarg that only people who have known him from infancy can understand.
I just don't understand anymore, I don't understand any of it. The more I try to think about it, the more my brain throbs.
I've caught my mom crying twice today, I've NEVER seen my dad this angry. Caleb's getting away with it as usual, and this week is going to be THAT much harder.
And for what?...what reason?
I had so much more I wanted to type, but I'll have to type it later, I can't even think.

No Title

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

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Just as a warning, there will be a lot of cussing and written screaming in this entry.
I've tried to calm myself down enough that it wouldn't be necessary, but its not working.
This whole moving out thing is becoming a giant mess. I honestly don't even know where to start on this.
I mentioned to Andy a few weeks ago about moving into Caleb's. Caleb had mentioned it to me multiple times since he had moved in, and when I brought it up again later, he loved the idea.
Andy got a bit excited about it, and then I started to too. This would fix all my moving anxieties.
I would be living with someone I knew. Walking distance of multiple places. Rent would be low cost. I'd be close to my parents, and more importantly, Molly.
The once again, when I counted on Caleb for something, I ended up getting hurt.
First it was we could move in whenever. Then it was Jan. Then Feb. Then maybe even as soon as Nov. Now its back to Feb.
On top of that, Britt is upping his rent, and paying for groceries. Casey is also going to be paying him. So now he'll be getting 600 a month, if not more, plus groceries.
He won't kick them out. At least a very highly, highly doubt it.
Then whats the alternative?
Moving in to a apartment with him in Mishawaka.
Good side? I'd be with Andy alone. I'd be farther away from drama. Andy would probably be happier.

Bad side? I'd have no car, which means no independence, which means I'd be depending souly on Andy. I'd never get to see my family, and more importantly, I'd never get to see Molly.

I know he thinks that is such a good thing, but I don't. I don't expect him to understand it.
I love Andy, I say this in every blog. He's everything I could ever possibly want in a guy. He's caring. Loving. Intelligent. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel safe. Good natured (most of the time). Sweet....I could go on and on. We all know I could.
But he always think he's right, about everything, and there is no wiggle room for argument. He'll deny that, but its true.
Regardless of what he says, he's not really close to his family. Yeah, they see each other on Holidays, maybe sometimes in between. They get each other Birthday cards...maybe talk on the phone.
But thats not like MY family. I see my parents almost every day. I spend hours and hours with Molly just talking. I see my grandparents all the time, my grandma calls to talk to me on the phone at the very least once a week. We help each other with yard work. We help each other out financially.
Yeah, my family isn't perfect, but who's isn't?
When I tell him that, he gets nasty about it. Attacks how my parents are horrible parents. How my brother manipulates. How Molly is getting horrible. He doesn't think I don't know that?
I never attack his family. I never attack how his mom is pycho. I never attack how his dad is a horrible dad. Never. And I will never do that. Because there his fucking parents. His fucking family.
I can't make him understand my point of view.

Then there is the dependability issue.
Andy has been developing a controlling nature that kind of has me on edge, I don't know where its coming from. I've never seen it until this year. I'm not even the only one who notices it anymore.
I know he would never ever do anything to hurt me on purpose. But if we move to Mishawaka, what does he lose?...nothing. He'll be around where his friends are. Collin, and on college breaks, Gavin, George, Ryan, etc.
He'll be around his mom. He'll be in a famillier area he grew up in. He has a car. A job.
If I move? I lose almost everything. I'll have the most important thing, him. But I'll lose my friends, my family, my sister, my comfort. I'll be souly depending on him to get around. That scares me. I've always been a interdependent person. Since I was little.

But how can I tell him no if he asks me? How can I turn down a life with him, what I've wanted since a couple weeks after dating him. That I've dreamed about. Strived for...
It doesn't help that last night Molly comes down stairs balling, crawls onto my lap, and won't stop for almost a hour. When I finally got her to calm down, she started sobbing again saying how she doesn't want me to leave her. How she's not ready to live so far away from me yet. How I'm her only parental support. How I'm her best friend. She starts apologizing over and over and over for being snappy with me. For ignoring me. For dissing me. And right now?...She's down stairs doing a huge list of chores I asked her to do. She didn't bicker...didn't argue. And she won't stop hugging me.
So now I feel like utter shit.
Then mom calls. Molly gets on the phone with mom, Molly starts sniffling, mom catches on, Molly tells her why shes crying, mom gets on the phone with me, sounds like SHE is going to start crying, and starts spitting out alternatives left and right.
JESUS!
How the fucking hell am I suppose to fucking do this shit!
I don't know how I managed to talk to them both with a straight face, I really don't.
Then when I get off the phone, Molly comes over and hugs me (Maria still being asleep), and goes "You can do this Kate. You can handle anything, your the strongest person I know." And thats a quote.
I hugged her, nodded, then went to the bathroom to start cleaning. Mean while, I can't even hear my maxed out headphones because my head is screaming so loud.
Thats when I caved and came up here to write this, I have to get this out.
Is Andy really the only one that see's the weeping coward I really am? Why does everyone but him think I'm so strong? I'm not! I'm not anything...
No matter what I do, I'm going to be hurting someone.
Either my family. Myself. Or Andy.
I can deal with hurting myself, its a small sacrifice. But how am I suppose to pick between them?
The worst of all, not one of them is supporting me.
Andy's pushing me, and just insults my family like he can make me hate them more, which just makes me more defensive and angry at him. My family just tells me how I'm not ready to leave yet, how they need me, start's crying, or tell's me its not morally right.
I have never felt so torn in my life. Ever. I can't sleep, my eyes are blood shot from the lack of it. I can't eat without feeling like I'm going to puke. I have to keep taking walks outside to my room so I can cry and get it over with before anyones see's.
I just want some fucking support, a little bit of help, from someone. I can't keep fucking doing this on my own.
And thats what it is, I'm doing this alone.
I don't know what I'm going to do...I really don't.
I want to talk to someone, and I can't. I have a half hour to talk to Andy at night, thats it. And I don't trust anyone else to talk about this.

...hell...
How am I suppose to pull it together? Tomorrow Mom comes home. Clean all day today. Friday is Monkey's huge party. Saturday me and Andy are doing something for are anniversary (I think) and that night is also trick or treat, Sunday is Halloween.
...I don't even want to do trick of treat anymore...I don't even want to watch horror movies...I just want to go in the woods and lie down, dream about werewolves like I use to when I was little and things got to be to much. I want to believe they'll come and take me away like I use to. I want to believe it won't always be like this. I won't always be fighting with people, doing things by myself.

My Heaven is Gray

Thursday, October 14, 2010

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Tonight my Uncle Mike and Dad got into a fight about Caleb. Them being so close, I had never seem them in such a heated argument. It disturbed me, and as always, I escaped outside.
I padded quickly and quietly barefoot over tall grass. After passing the garage, I made my way to the center of are backyard.
Its beautiful back there, yellow and red leaves cover so much of the ground there is almost no green to be seen. Tree's everywhere, great big open sky. The best part? The sky was gray, like it was just about to rain.
There was a chill breeze, but I sat down enjoying it.
The sound of all the starlings was almost deafening. I had never heard them that loud.
I decided, while sitting out there watching what had to be hundreds of birds fly not to far above my head, that my Heaven would be gray skies. Miles and miles of gray sky in autumn, with a chill breeze, and occasional rain. At night it would be endless stars, and a giant pale moon.

I laid back on the grass, feeling my hair tangle in the leaves around me. Before I knew it, my mind was off in a distant memory.
I often compare old memories to attics. A eerie dark room where there is little light. Hundreds of old possessions (the memories) buried under thick layers of dust, forgotten by time.
But anyway, I digress, as usual.
When I was little I carried a lot of weight on me.
from the time I was six, I began raising myself. By the time I was eight, I began raising Molly. By the time I was twelve, I was trying to school us both. By the time I was fourteen, I had given up every dream I ever had.
All my dreams and hopes were spoken only in my backyard, in the woods. Every tear I ever shed after six was in the backyard, alone.
Everyday it was a almost ritual. I would find a time to escape alone, go to the old hay wagon my grandpa use to have hooked up to a old trailer, about fifty feet from the woodline, right under my very favorite tree. I would crawl up onto it, face the woods, and I would sing. I would sing my heart out. Lyrics poured from my mouth before I even realized what I was singing.
Then I prayed. I prayed so hard that at times it ended in tears.
I prayed for someone...anyone...anything to talk to. Something that understood me, knew me, didn't judge me, comfort me, and most importantly, save me.
At seven my biggest desire was for something to come out of those woods and kidnap me. Steal me away from everything and everyone I knew. I wanted it more then I wanted my next breath.
Every day. Every day for years I went, I sang, I prayed, I watched...waited.
I remember most of the time I wanted it to be something like a werewolf. Even when I was little I never felt comfortable around humans, and believed with my entire being I was actually a werewolf, I just hadn't changed yet, and that someday soon, my real parents would come for me.


Before going outside today, I hadn't thought about me doing that in a long time. After I met Andy it seemed pointless to keep doing that.
...But today, for the first time in what feels like forever, I stared into the woods depths, and dared something to come out and kill me on the spot. Carry me off. Take me away from all of this.
I wanted it to.
After a half hour, when the last of the starling had flown away, and it was quiet, the gray sky still gray, the wind had calmed down, I walked back inside, a twinge of familiar disappointment twisting in my stomach.