Wednesday, April 27, 2011

I shaved my arms today.

I've had hairy arms since I was about ten. They hid scars well, but they were also a huge insecurity of mine. So I shaved them. I did really well, if I say so myself (and I do). Around my wrists, I didn't do as well as on the rest of my arms. I think I was scared I'd cut them.
My mom tried to be funny, or something, I think. She said, "Maybe this will take the place of cutting!" And I felt like I had swallowed a lot of ice and it felt like my stomach had clenched up. I'm proud, though, of myself because I kept smiling and laughed. Want me to not cut, Mommy? Don't pull the bullshit you did tonight where C can throw a HUGE ASS fit, but I'm the one getting yelled at for yelling at him. I get yelled at for snapping at him because YOU'RE NOT TAKING CARE OF THE PROBLEM. I get yelled at because I CAN'T TAKE THIS FUCKIN HOUSE ANYMORE!!
The "grown-ups" in this house don't have everyone's best interest in mind. If they did, their fourteen-year-old daughter wouldn't have seen her 20-something, non-verbal, autistic, blah, blah, blah half-brother's dick! She wouldn't NEED a lock on her door because she's afraid of that same person walking in on her when she's got her underwear off. She wouldn't be afraid that he'd just stand there and stare. She wouldn't know that no one would do anything about it if it did happen.
She wouldn't feel like home is suffocating. HEY, MAYBE she wouldn't CUT. MAYBE IF YOU GAVE A FUCKIN DAMN SHE WOULD HAVE A SELF-ESTEEM! How about that?! Actually CARING, though? For your daughter who has NO apparent mental problems!? WHAT!? Have I gone mad to even think such a thing!?! Yeah, because once upon a time, I was cared about and that's what makes EVERYTHING so horrible. If I didn't know what it felt like to be cared about, I wouldn't be able to miss the feeling.
I'm sorry, I shouldn't make you guys read through this, and I shouldn't blame just my family. It's just... I so wanna leave this house. Maybe it's having my eye-virginity taken that has me so shaken up, but I mean really, this isn't the first time he's walked around naked. Just the first time I saw anything. Why did I look up from the computer screen? I'm sure that if I bother my parents with it, they'll warp it to be my fault.

Yeah, my ankle's alright, Americaneaglelove, but it'll probably scar. And I'm writing a story, which doesn't really have a name right now, because eventually I wanna be an author. I've had a few of you tell me I shouldn't cut, that I don't deserve to, but I think if you knew more about me you wouldn't think that. Also, it's just a lot of emotions that boil over and feel the need to be expressed.

Ok, I think I'm gonna go and tell my mom that I CUT BECAUSE FOR THE PAST ALMOST THREE YEARS MY NERVES HAVE BEEN ON FUCKIN EDGE AND THERE'S ONLY SO MUCH A 14 YEAR OLD CAN TAKE!!!! Only, I won't cuss. Because Mommy doesn't know I cuss and I don't think I can be her little girl if she did. ALL OF THIS is for control. ALL OF THIS is me going "UH, hey, I EXIST AND NEED SOMETHING TO CHANGE!!" ALL OF THIS IS ME SCREAMING FOR SOMEONE TO REALIZE THAT I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS!!
Calm, calm, calm. Okay, now go, find Mommy. Go on, Alex. Go tell her.
Alright, NIGHTIE NIGHT!~ ^^

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