Tuesday, February 20, 1996

Soon I want to see if I can beat my 39-level record by playing that ballistics game.

At the moment I don’t really have anything important to do, so I left Andy a message to call me if he wants to chat. Maybe he can come over one of these nights after work to get his birthday toaster present.

I don’t know if I mentioned yet that Tom printed out two pictures of Gloria that he found on AOL as a little Valentine’s present for me.

Tom returns to work today at 4:30. Now watch. I know him. He won’t touch me throughout the whole week after having a vacation and especially not on the 23rd when I’m mid-cycle. I told you he’d never change and has one excuse after another. All he did was look me straight in the eye and say “yes” when I asked for a kid. One big fat complete lie. He lies about it as if he were lying about a pencil he stole. Like it’s no big deal. Just another casual white lie.

I last left off about the junior high schools I attended, so I’ll take it from there. I only attended Longmeadow high school throughout parts of my freshman year.

You see, my mother began her threats of sending me to funny farms a couple of years before she finally did it. She claims that she and Dad were frightened, helpless and powerless to change the situation. I can see how they feel that way, but I’ve always found it to be a petty excuse. I know I was responsible for my own actions, but at the same time, if they hadn’t always been so negative and so preoccupied with their TV or other stuff, maybe I wouldn’t have cut my arm and tried to kill myself or been such a rebellious troublemaker.

During the beginning of my freshman year, I was tutored by a woman at the Willie Ross School for the Deaf. She was a cool lady.

Then, I went to the high school where I did the rest of my freshman year.

On July 27th of 1981 when I was 15, they sent me to the Brattleboro Retreat in Vermont. They admit now that this was a bad move, but they haven’t ever admitted other bad moves such as Valleyhead and a certain foster home I was in and the state funny farm in Northampton. I was in Vermont till December 17th or 19th, so about 5 months. It was pure hell, but little did I know that Valleyhead and Northampton would be much worse. This was just the beginning of my 3-year voyage between 5 miserable places. At least in Vermont, you had your own room and there were more privileges and the restrictions weren’t as harsh. The food was better there, too, and you could have money enough to support your cigarette habit if you had one. For the most part, though, this place, as well as Valleyhead, treated the kids there as if they were criminals. Like with Valleyhead, there weren’t enough supportive people who wanted to truly help you and boost your self-esteem, etc.

The nicer staff weren’t the ones with the power. Those with the power often brushed us off as if we deserved whatever we got in life and made us feel worse in general and worse about ourselves. There were several staff members on power-play, and it didn’t take much, if they didn’t like you, for them to make your life miserable and to put you on restriction for the dumbest things.

After Vermont, I returned home and right away, my parents just had to get rid of me again and suggested a private school in Northampton. I refused. I begged to stay home. I felt like any other kid would feel - rejected, unwanted and uncared for. My parents, especially my mother, couldn’t be bothered with my hyper personality, my energy, my talkativeness, my need for conversation and communication, or my dreams. Most everything I did was silly or not good enough. Most everything was my fault.

I was only home a few months after Vermont and soon attended an alternative high school in Springfield. This school was pretty cool. They weren’t so hard on you and there were only a few teachers and students.

In April of 1982, I became a ward of the state. I was taken first to a crisis center where I stayed for 3-4 days. Then I was placed in a place called LaRagione’s for about two months. This was a rooming house for adults with emotional problems and there were about 7 3-story houses where everyone lived. They came to the main house for meals which was also where I lived. This was in Springfield.

My foster parents were Anna and Harry B and they were pretty cool. They had a house in West Springfield and they wanted to remain my foster parents till I was 18, but the state got in the way of that.

The same woman, who tutored me at the Willie Ross, tutored me while I was there.

Around June of that year, I was in the state hospital for a week or two. It’s a wonder I came out of that place alive. I know that they’ve changed a lot of laws since then, thank God. There were 4 people in a cubicle and there was absolutely no privacy at all. Not while you shit, not while you showered, not while you slept, etc.

From there I went to a foster home that was a nightmare. It was in Springfield too, two blocks from Anna and Harry’s. I lived on the first floor with a woman named Dorothy H and her vicious friend Valerie. I was alone there, till another 16-year-old girl named Shelly came there. She was a toughie and she protected me from Valerie and Dotty’s cruel ways and their teasing me. Shelly could take Dotty, but not Valerie. At first Shelly was intimidating to me, but we became friendly. Every morning she’d hide me out upstairs, out of the way of Dotty and Valerie’s wrath.

This is where I was in the worst of my anorexia. I couldn’t eat if I wanted to cuz of all I’d gone through, but I also wasn’t fed too much as it was. I was lucky if I could find a loaf of bread in the kitchen of that house. I was 85 pounds and my periods stopped till I was almost 19. Due to this, plus serious tranquilizers I was on, I ended up at 148 pounds when I was 18 and it took me till I was 19 to start my descent to 100 pounds which took a year.

Later...

I just talked to Andy and Quinn and then I went to finish some soup I made yesterday. Quinn said that my telling him I weighed 96 pounds made him hungry.

I felt kind of warm and when I took my temperature it said I was 99. I had somewhat of a feeling that I may be ovulating and, of course, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Meaning, I can’t go to my husband and tell him of this possibility and have him eagerly fuck me and cum.

He told me earlier that he doesn’t know that he’s positive his “problem” is subconscious but says it may be. He says he doesn’t know what the problem is or else he’d fix it. He also said, though, that the day will never come when he tells me he never really did want a kid. If he doesn’t know whether his problem is subconscious or not and if he doesn’t know what the problem is, then how can he be so sure that what I’m telling him his problem is, is the case? I’m sure he knows damn well what his 3 fears are. He doesn’t want a kid. He doesn’t think I’ll be a good mother and he loves to tease me about issues of sex and a kid.

He doesn’t want me to talk about it, yet he says he and I can bring up suggestions that may help him. Why should I bother? I know better. The only thing of it right now that really pisses me off is how he lied and said he’s gonna win the bet during a moment where I was upset just to cheer me up, even though he denies this. How can he lie to me about a kid as if it was a little white lie that could never hurt me? How can he go about it in such a swift, casual, and easy way?

I just wish to hell I knew when this was gonna end and how. Is it gonna be by him playing this game forever and forever refusing to cum as has been the case? Or is it gonna be by him telling me what’s really on his mind? I don’t see how there could be any other way for this to play out. It’s either lie forever or tell the truth.

I’m terrified every month at the thought of PMS when my feelings are intensified. I can talk to him about anything but this. If I do, he either gets upset or lies and says we’ll have a kid to cheer me up at the moment.

Earlier he also said, “I don’t want you to work just for the sake of working. I want you to work if you want to. I want you to be happy and do what you want to do.”

Well, I can’t do what I want to cuz he won’t allow it. Therefore, I’ll take second best, cuz if I don’t, I’ll just be sitting around forever, and we could use the extra money, and second best is better than third best or lower.

He also told me of an idea he had earlier tonight. He wants to teach me graphics 3 times a week and he wants me to teach him signing 3 times a week. I’ve always wanted him to learn sign language and I think he’s serious this time. Especially since it’s stuff he wants and it sure beats having a kid, as far as he’s concerned. Hell, I think he’d rather me get in trouble all over again than be pregnant.

Amazingly enough, I haven’t heard the dogs bark last night or tonight, but they sure barked up a storm yesterday morning. I’m doing one more thing, that I know is worthless, but that’s OK. I sent a letter to them from the Arizona Humane Society’s complaint dept.

I also sent Anna & Harry a letter just to let them know how my life is and that I’m sorry for the calls I made to them in the late 80s. I told them I still love them and think of them and am grateful for how well they treated me when I was 16 and living with them.

Later...

I absolutely cannot believe that I haven’t heard those dogs bark at all since I’ve been up, but that’s fine with me.

I’m getting bored more and more and I need a new project on top of my hobbies. I need to be working. If only we had a color scanner for my drawings and a laser jet printer for typing.

Andy’s gonna be moving into the house alone for the first 3-6 months. Then Michelle will move in when she gets more money.

I don’t know why Tom wants me to do this. He said he wants it just because and that he’s got no reason in particular. He asked if one of these days I’d write about one day in our lives, then about one week in our lives, minus any feelings or attitude. How totally boring.

Now my temperature’s 98.1. So, who knows if I really was ovulating or if I ever do?

Guess I’m gonna go and wind down now.

Later...

There’s some kind of city work truck next door. The same kind that’s been there before. I guess anytime now they’ll put a for-sale sign back out for all the large families with dogs to see.

Once again, I’m gonna go wind down with some coffee. I’ll also go set the VCR for Law & Order tonight to get that out of the way.

I just hope that whatever they’re doing next door doesn’t get noisy so I can sleep. I’m pretty sure it’ll be quiet, though, cuz they have been in the past.

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