2006 fod entries

July

Mistake erasers rainbowws

Sat. july 22nd

So lately there’s been a lot goin on. This entire summer. And I’ve decided I need to wirte I mean really write. But i don’t want to right now. i don’t want to do much of anything. So we’ll see where this goes. I’m tired. So dreamy spacy. Out of it. Maybe that’s a good thing considering how much I’ve been through lately especially this week. This week has been very long. And tiring. And yet somehow it came to an end. Just like all things. Just like most things. All good things must come to an end. But this wasn’t a good thing. Well, at least I don’t see it that way. Maybe my having a breakdown while sitting on a giant plastic fake waffle at the mall on Monday night at 10 o clock was a sign that things were to be bad all too soon. So many things have happened I can barely keep track of them anymore.

Maybe if I go backwards in my mind in my head in time......I wish I could. I wish I could change what’s happened step back in time knowing the consequences of my actions and not get caught. I wish I could go outside even if it is dark. Just so I would be free again have that freedom that power that control. But I can’t. I’m always wishing this or that one thing or another. So many emotions filling up and finally spilling over because I haven’t talked in so long. It’s only in the past couple weeks that I started telling people everything and that’s when things got complicated.

It’s just like in the book ‘Speak’. She was raped and didn’t talk about it. I was sexually assaulted but I don’t feel that I’ve properly talked about it. I’m starting to though. But I know it will take many many therapy sessions many many years of counselling and therapy and many many years. I’ve already had enough therapy since I was 9. I am one messed up kid. My mother’s right about that.

Sigh I don’t know. I’ve made some mistakes and I’m trying to accept it as such because everyone makes mistakes that’s why we have erasers. And delete buttons and backspace buttons. For when we make mistakes while typing or writing something or doing homework or something. And delete buttons and backspace buttons are a kind of eraser. But what about the erasers for life? Where do we find those? Is there a giant store for them? Maybe? Somewhere? I know the truth that there isn’t. But I have to hope for something.
It’s just like in Wizard of Oz. She was looking for something that wasn’t there but she was looking for something she already had. But couldn’t find it and didn’t realise it untill she went to Oz.

And keep hold to something. i can talk to the dog and Sarah, my therapist says that’s one thing I should hold on to. But what about the other things? I suppose the other things would be beauty, my talents, my personality.
But sometimes the world slips through your fingers at such a quick rate that you can’t do anything to stop it. Because whether you like it or not life goes on.
I’m absolutely stuck and there’s nothing I can do. There’s nothing anyone can do there’s nothing they could’ve done. What’s done is done.

You know I used to think and I guess believe that the past is the past and you can’t change what’s happened. And I used to believe that and not try to change anything. Now I’m not so sure what I believe, about that or anything else.
My friend wouldn’t talk to me and so I emailed her asking what’s wrong. I wasn’t trying to upset her but maybe I did. So I’m not going to ask her. And when I read her reply I about nearly cried. It’s not her. Well ok maybe it is a little bit.

Right now it seems the smallest thing could make me cry. And maybe I shouldn’t talk to people if i feel this way. Not that I’m trying to be rude or anything but if things make me cry this easily if I’m this sensitive then maybe it’s best I didn’t talk to people. But then again maybe it’s good if I cry. I’m not saying people should deliberately make me cry but maybe subconsciously they know I need to and they’re trying to help me along the way. Or idinno maybe I’m just crazy.

And maybe I sort of want to upset people, subconsciously. They’ve upset me plenty this past week so maybe I’m trying to teach them how it feels. My emotions are all out of control and I’ll lash out at anyone, it feels like. After having everything taken away from me why should I trust anyone anymore? After I came back from boarding school when I was 16 it took me a long time to trust people. And after my sexual assault last fall I still trust people. But maybe that’s because I haven’t properly ackknowledged it I don’t know. But if I don’t trust people and talk to them then how can I get help? Do I want help? I’m not entirely sure i do.’

---

Nov.

Wed. Nov. 15th

‘Ellooooooooooo
moo
i’m bored. oh and i didnt go to class. tehe. w/e. omygod it is suuuuuuuch a gorgeous day too-day. it feels like summer. i luuuuuuuuuuuuuuv summer.
ow. my knee hurts. i fell when i was walking home from school.
so i’m bored. i have stuff to do. omg. the shiny pretty happy people. i get suuuch a kick out of that. and yoooooooooouuuuuuu. and i will always luv uuuuuuuu. lovers! er i dont have one. la la la. i want to go to a park and paint. or ooh i know! sleep. except there arent any within walking distance. nothing is within walking distance in fl. the well i once took a nite walk to downtown davie. whos davie? thank you steven. the walk took a couple of hours though. no actually ive done that twice.
i havent been to rubys since ummmmmmmm.........saturday. it really wasnt that long ago. omg you know whats really weird? is that i’m in my bedroom in my apt right now. if i go into the living room ill be in a different room but the same place.
rubys as in ruby tuesdays. has anyone ever actually gone to rubys on a tuesday?
i was thinking about the pineapple question when i was eating one yesterday; why is it called pine if its neither pine nor apple? oh i know! you could stick a bunch of pines into an apple. and then it would be a pineapple. yayyyyy.
erm but pineapples are sort of tangy which could be.....piney? but theyre not green. oh wait yes they are. the um leaf..things. leaves.
alex is not a cow. ok why are the cows named elsie?
i had the weirdest dream this morning.’

Thurs. Nov. 16
‘For the past 5 solid weeks. I’ve eaten. I mean, I have made a consciouos effort to eat at least 2 meals a day. For the first tiime in my entire life. The 2 other goals are to get me to eat more and to get me to eat healthier. But it aint easy. The thing about any situation is that it can be any way you want it to be. For example, the whole working-on-recovery thing is only difficult because I keep saying it is.

But for me it’s even more so bc I had to watch Karma go through one this summer so it’s going to be even more difficult for me. I’m also a vegetarian which makes it difficult and I don’t like a lot of foods. But I also do like a lot of foods.

I feel like there’s something missing....food-wise…

Sigh.

What if I’m stuck in the same damn pattern I’ve been for the past 6 frekin years? What if I’m going nowhere with this?..........

I realise that if I focus on the what-ifs I won’t focus on anything else. But what-ifs are possibilities. There are negative what-ifs and positive what-ifs.

It’s so frustrating. I never thought I’d be one of those women who’s finds herself in the trap of eating disorders.....well it just sort of happened that I’m falling into it.

I also have to realise that wanting to do something is half the battle. ‘Those who dont try are the ones who fail’

A friend of mine recently made a comment to another friend of mine, saying something along the lines of ‘shes anorexic’. I don’t like this and I fully intend to talk to him about what he said. I feel like I’m at least trying to work really hard on this and for him, or anyone, to say something like that...... ‘

Nov. 16
‘English Class Group Activity
The teacher
asks us
to get into
groups
of 3.
because there’s an odd number.
Everyone rearranges themselves.
I’m horrible at this.
The 2 girls in front of me move their chairs backward
I move mine forward.
They start talking and it’s kind of awkward.
One of them is really pretty the other has huge eyes.
I become quieter draw back into my shyness.
They’re nice easy to talk to but I don’t know them
That’s my point.
This is increasingly frustrating.
I suppose the more activities we have the easier it’ll become.
I don’t like group activities.
They require interaction with others
They require too much effort.
Its always hardest the first time.
-sept. 11, 2006’

‘Red wine glasses spilled
Lying on the floor
The bodies pressed into each other
The haunting melodies of being alive
The eruption comes from her miscarriage
The pain of every anguished sense
The silence hiding the screams
And the weird animal like noises that make some think shes a monster

He hides behind the bicoloured mask
Too misunderstood his only purpose is to entertain and obey
But he has a lot to say
Everyone just laughs at him
I think its sad.
Having sex is like…I wouldn’t know.
Breathing is every bit as difficult as the ones who stand and watch
Not doing anything to prevent
But everything has a purpose.
Or does it?

The red wine is darker than blood and stronger
Too many things unresolved too many things go unnoticed.
Todays the first day of the rest of your life
Remember those posters?
Until you die.
What does that mean, exactly?
The amazing power of silence.
Stunned into bewilderment.
But everything always comes down, eventually.
What isn’t there anymore is everything we ever had.
What goes up must come down.
It’s the same way with moods.

If you bury the past nothing can ever grow.
If you leave it alone the seed wont root.
What would the plant be?
Theres not enough of something we don’t know.
She needs to hear shes beautiful but when will that day come.
Not soon enough.
You have to breathe to be able to live.
Her spirit will be wandering the earth for a long time
So many unresolved issues
Too young.

Breathing through frozen is difficult
Sometimes its easier to freeze.
Everything that’s frozen thaws eventually.
She knows how to ask one person for help.
And the others?
The eternal road, the road to forever.
What is forever?
The sky?
So many definitions so many things to say so many ways to say them.
And finally, The Wonderland Years.
-anne beman young. November 13, 2006.’

‘nov. 16

November 4, 2006
It’s 1:30 am and I’m sitting here. I wish I had someone to talk to but I don’t and I’m sitting here. I am so incredibly tired. It’s now Saturday. I’m hungry and tired and I honestly feel like shit. I’m not even going to pardon my language for that one I’m just going to tell it like it is. For once. Be completely straightforward. Hell I don’t know. Straightforward what a strange phrase. So I’m sitting here on the blue cushy sofa watching tv and listening to the blinds, the fan and my fingers typing. Wishing I had someone to talk to. But who the fuk is awake at 1:30 am? Besides me. I’m so lonely. I never go to sleep until 3 am and I don’t know why. Purely out of habit. Maybe. People say, you can always talk to them, but then when you need them, really need them no one’s there. So you go to sleep in hopes that you never wake up. But then you do and realize it’s back again.

I’m spiraling out of control I’m spiraling downwards. Where else do I have to spiral? I don’t know. Spiraling spinning round and round twirling on the tire swings. A memory from when I was little. My brain tells me to sleep but my emotions are standing in the way. Random thought of the moment: I need to buy food. Again.
Every time I need to talk to someone it always seems to be about something bad. I know that’s why people are there but it doesn’t really seem fair. Nothing ever is. Sometimes…nothing to live for everything to die for. My best friend was right; what’s the point in turning on the light when all that’s left is darkness?’

‘nov. 16

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Nothing,” I tell you.
My lips form the words but my eyes say something else entirely different. The eyes that everyone else thinks are freaky because they change colour too much. Without even thinking about it I make eye contact. A sign. “C’mon I know something’s wrong. My girlfriend . . .” you don’t finish.
My heart immediatly reaches out to you but my mind tells me otherwise. So, I don’t say anything. And, I can still hear my mother’s warning, given earlier that day, as I’ve heeard it so many times before: “You’re not to tell anyone”.
But then I remember something else: what happened the last time I ignored someone. They . . .died. Because of that. Correction: She . . .died, because of that. Your girlfriend. My best friend. I can’t have the same thing happen twice. And, I won’t.
Unconsciouely, without my noticing, my body’s slid closer to yours, my hand somehow slipping into yours. Ironically, you’re the one who sheds the tears. 2 droplets of water, rolling down your cheeks, simmering in the blue darkness. Just like the blood that fell earlier. “We’re going to be late,” I whisper, warning.
You don’t turn to me, and I realize why: Pain needs no explanation. I feel your muscles tense as you swallow back tears, attempting to stop the pain. “I . . .” you choke out. You swallow and clear your throat, then start over. “I don’t care if . . .um, we’re late. I just want to make sure you’re ok and . . .” your voice fades off into the darkness.
I know what it is without your saying: You want to make sure I don’t make the same mistake she did, because she was ignored. By everyone. Well, a “mistake” implies that it’s bad and I don’t think it was. Is.
I swallow hard, blinking back, refusing to let tht tears fall. A small hint of when we heard the news passes through my mind, but I refuse to linger over it. My thin fingers wrap tightly around your large hand, squeezing it. You squeeze back.’

‘nov. 17

8/27/04 DRAMA
I was watching it on the stage
I was wearing black
8/28/04
I was watching her
Cowering on the floor next to her bed
Her mother yelling at her
beating her
abusing her.
The brown one talked.
He’s supposed to be white.
The bunny.
Telling her she’s insane, dillusional, hallucinating
She doesn’t want to hear this.
Her father, gone.
Drank.
Then walked out.
The wheelchair.
Caterpiller.
Smoking.
After he talks to her,
he’ll die.
Immediatly.
8/28/04
I walk briskly out
in a panic.
I lean against the stall door
take my knife out.
Push up my sleeve.
Stab stab stab stab stab the knive into my arm.
Repeatedly.
While I have a silent breakdown.
- anne b. young. 8/28/04. 1:15 p.m.’

‘nov. 17
Chapter 1
Republican Cutting
It was dark and the president was speaking. The president was republican and Christian, of course. So that explained everything. No one else was in the room.
“NO MORE CUTTING!” he boomed. He kept thundering this over and over, repetitively.
She kept screaming and screaming throughout the entire dream.

---

Chapter 2
[The] Mirror
She moved closer and closer to the mirror, located above the sink in the bathroom. Ever so slowly she went. Her black hair was flat on her head, not moving. Her eyes stood out against the blackness that was outlining them, made even blacker by the deathly white skin. She couldn’t take her eyes off the eyes in the mirror. She tried to look away but was too horrified.
Somehow, she found herself looking in the bathtub. There wasn’t any water in it but she found something else; half an arm. But that was . . .her arm?
She screamed.

---

Chapter 3
Thorns and Chains Bound
She felt herself being pulled backwards by the thorns around her throat. She was in a lush green jungle. Living in a Frida painting.
The thorns were replaced by chains. She was in a dark room and kept banging her head against a black metal wall. She watched herself do this.

---

Chapter 4
Rope
She was sitting in a wooden chair, with her breasts pushed up against it. Something metal was against her spine. Invisible hands tied her arms to the chair, twisting and lacing within.

---

Chapter 5
Alice’s pills
She was falling down the rabbit hole. To the right and left of her were walls, which were made up of large, oblong white pills. Written on them was the word SUICIDE in large, black capital letters.’

‘Nov. 17

3: Friday, December 5, 2003.

I can’t even write about it or talk about it without breaking into tears. Not directly, at least. Indirectly. I mean, it would make a great story for like a magazine or something but . . .if I keep breaking into tears every time, then what? I want to be able to talk about it and write about it & especially put it in a magazine to inspire girls everywhere, but when will I be able to, if ever?

---

4: Same day. 3:16 p.m.

Well, I probably will get over it. It will probably just take a long time. It’s a very traumatic experience.

5: Sunday, March 4, 2004. 9:36 P.M. Lounge.

I’m in shock right now. God, I can’t beliee . . .I just . . .OMG. I can’t believe it happened.
Or almost happened. Could’ve happened. To me. I mean OMG.
Ok you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m talking about. So I’ll tell you/explain.
Well,, what I’m talking about is the night. The day. The many nights. Last Saturday. The night of Dorina’s - a friend - 16th b-day party. God I . . .it seems so unlike me now. I can’t believe I almost did that. Almost . . .comitted suicide. Killed myself. Ended my life. Almost. Nearly. There. I said it.

---

6: Tuesday, March 16, 2004. 9 p.m.

All I wanted was freedom. And it seemed like death was the only escape. Sometimes, it still seems that way. Like I have no escape but death. Like I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Whenever I was upset or crying I cut myself. Because it seemed like the only option. Writing things down took too long.

---

7: Tuesday, March 16, 2004. 9:37 p.m.

Well the physical pain of cutting myself represents the emotional pain of whateer I’m going through at the time that I cut myself. ‘

‘nov. 17

The day, moment, hour I was born, I was the perfect little angel. Sweet, quiet, always wanted to party. Everyone loved me.
But things started going downhill from there. I know my mom’s hiding a lot of my medical history from me. It’s never talked about unless we’re in a doctor’s office. I just somehow know that when I was 4 I was placed in an institution. That’s all I remember.
When I was younger, I used to have these terrible, horrible temper tantrums. And I guess one day my parents called the doctor who came to our house, gave me a sedative, and took me away and locked me up. That’s all I remember, and that’s all I want to remember.
And the loneliness my whole life has driven me mad. Which is why I’m mad now.
The things that happened to my sister and I when we were younger . . .and everything else.
Now, I’m sorrowful, pained and alone. I always have been.
Untill you go spiraling down the rabbit hole you never realize . . .spraling, spinning . . .
My soul and spirit are broken, bleeding, shattered. And always have been. So have my wings. Each year that more tragedy happens, they break and bleed more and more. So do my spirit and soul.’

‘nov. 17

Untitled
silence, she whispers
in the dark room
she’s spinning
dizzily
blood flying out on2 the black carpet
then she passes out
goes in2 a coma
angel, her beautiful soul, gone’

‘nov. 17

So, as we all know, it’s now November. Which, for me, means more depression. Ug 2day sucked. You know if the world didnt suck wed all fall off. And depression means more blood. At least its warm here. Idinno. I feel so depressed. And.......like I dont wanna do anything.’

‘nov. 17

Of An Insomniac.
So once again I have insomnia. Stupid cable grrrrrrrr. Hmmmmmm I wonder if anyone’s up? I’m bored. God im so fukin tired man. Of everything. need to talk to muffin. hmm......well i dont havta get up till like 1 tomorrow, er, today. Yes and now I know why i have insomnia. BC of stupid fukin night terrors. yet again. errrrr.
muffin; what i call my friends.’

‘nov. 17

omygod theyre back and im absolutely terrified. i really should try n get some sleep. even if it is only 6/7 hours. thats something. ahhhhhhhhh. jesus. i hate this. but im ocd so its to be expected. shes haunting me. but its prolly only cuz im letting her. god. idk. i sleep in the living room so the light shouldnt be a problem. omygod shut up. i know i sound crazy and im afraid i already might be going. i need to breathe. even if i do fall asleep with the tv on hopefully thatll be enough to distract me so i can sleep. omygod. i wont take meds. i absolutely flat out refuse to take meds. but they could really help. so im stuck suffering. maybe when i go back to CO ill actually get more sleep. i hope to god that it doesnt turn into last summer, where i have to wait for sunlight so i can sleep. man that was fukin horrible. well im not as freaked out as i could be.
uggggggggggg.........and well winter in CO. im hoping that holiday break will be great but its still CO and cold and um snowy and sucky. ug not vermont o man vermont was hell. and winter means cold and stupid SAD and bleeding and such.
oh and! my grandmother’s not doing that well. my mom was finally fukin honest with me. jesus christ mother! i luv her but grrr.
and im failing english which was my choice. but its still disappointing.
i wanna fuking cut. and you cant stop me.
go away’

‘nov. 18

My Assignment
Good Things
1; I’m here/alive
2: it’s saturday
3: i’m going to a movie i want to see tonight
4: I went to a new place for DineAround
5: I ate at DineAround
6: i had a good time at DineAround
7: I got some groceries
8: i have food available not too far from me
9; I now like LunaBars
10: I have a really nice apartment
11: I have friends
12: I’m trying
13: i had a nice talk with jackee
14: i’m going home for xmas
15: my grandmother may not be doing well but she’s still alive
16: i have all my grandparents
17: i’m pretty, talented and have a good personality
18: i luv my mom
19: i have at least 7 people that really care about me
20: i’m trying to make the most of the holidays
21: things are going well in therapy
22: i like my therapists
23: i really like florida
24: i’m smiling
25: i feel happy at this particular moment in time
26: i got an email from someone i havent heard from in a long time
27: i have enough money
28: i may not always get along with my mother but we’re doing better
29: my depression isn’t as bad as it was
30: i can go to school
31: i luv animals
32: i’m writing all these things down
33: i’m an accepting person
34: i have creative outlets
35: i’m going to cooking on sunday
36: it may be cloudy but it’s not cold
37: colorado is not Vermont’

‘nov. 20

Well yesterday I was uo till 6/7 a.m. Thank God it was Sunday. Guess I can only do that on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturday nights. Oh I finally found my glasses. They were in between the sofa cushions. Of course. The first place I left them and the last place I looked, or something like that. Yeah so I’m kinda hoping that the insomnia thing doesn’t worsen. Maybe it’s cuz of the less hours of light thing Idinno. But it happens in the summer as well. Man I hate the night but as the same time I luv it. She doesn’t like light. It’s so morbidly terrifying. Maybe if I stop talking, thinking, talking about it it’ll go away. Or maybe not Idinno. I wonder if I’ll have it when we’re in Disney. But then again, I’ve been nocturnal all my life.
I’m terrified of sleeping......…’

‘nov. 25

Tips For Good Karma
1: say ‘i luv you’ to at least person each day
2; hug at least 1 person each day
3; if someone is really good at something i.e. drawing, cooking, etc, and you want to be really good at that something, ask them for tips.
4; if they have beautiful hands, or really nice hair, or feet or something like that, tell them.’

‘nov. 25

Memory Days
Everything strikes a chord
And
Somehow the tears are lacking
Just one of those days one of those memory days.
Certain events have become triggers for my tears, or lack thereof.
Emotions are low and clouds rise high.
Just one of those days one of those memory days.
-anne beman young. November 2006’

‘nov. 25

Frozen
Soon I’ll be going home
For the winter.
A reverse snowbird.
Not north but south.
The complete opposite.
Home to Cherry Creek.
To frozen.
To memoryland of dry landscape.
Snow everywhere.
Not Vermont but frozen.
The river behind the mall
The mall containing Foley’s
5 blocks exact from my house.
The house of so many things.
Maybe even the 7 gables.
Who knows.
From the rent song
Who knows where who goes there
I do.
Well I don’t go there anymore.
I tried and thought I’d made progress.
I haven’t.
Well…..
The house of tears and fights
Cuts and blood.
Lonely angels smothered from the very hands of freedom.
Hands his hands.
Frozen.
The river.
The most beautiful in winter.
Frozen.
-anne beman young, November 25, 2006’

‘nov. 25

LACY june 26, 2007

I wandered out into the kitchen that morning and saw a note on the table.

Lacy,

I won’t be home all week. I’ve some business to attend to. This morning you will be picking up Aleyssa, Alyssa, Lila, Samantha, Melissa, Cassandra, Violet, Juliette, Missy and Ashley. You can have breakfast on the way to school.

Luv

Mother.

I sighed and went back upstairs to get dressed. She was always leaving me like this never giving a thought to me. After I got dressed I went down to the coffee shop and waited in line.

“Hi what can I get you?” the cute pixie-ish lady standing behind the counter in her green apron asked me.

“Um a cinnamon raisin bagel and…”
“Anything to drink?”
“Yes a Passionfruit Ice Tea. Please,” I added.
“Ok that comes to about 4.95.”

I handed over a $5 bill.

“You know?” she said as she took the money.
“Yes?”
“You’re very beautiful.”

Beautiful but alone, I heard someone say. I whirled around, trying to figure out who the voice belonged to. But there were so many people in the shop I wondered if I was just dreaming.

“Thank you.”
“Are you, by any chance, a model?”
“Well I was once but…no, not anymore.”
“Oh. Well enjoy your breakfast.”

She handed it to me.

“Thanksss.”

Although I don’t see how I could anything with the way I was feeling.

I made my way over to a booth, back in the corner, secluded, dark, alone and isolated where no one could see me. I started eating my bagel and tried my best to stay awake. School started at 8 o clock and it was now 7.
I sat there chewing my bagel thoughtfully then decided to leave and walk the 15 minutes back to my house, where I was even more alone and isolated.

I waited in the living room drinking my tea for the limo driver to come round, where I had the shades drawn so that it was dark as anything. She hated this, the darkness. Because she didn’t want to succumb to my depression.

I saw the limo through the frosted glass windows and got up silently, going out the door, locking it and going into the limo. I had brought my phone with me, although I never used it. Who was there to call?

On the drive to Ashley and Missy’s house, I thought. No doubt the lady at the shop had heard as well, just as everyone else had heard the scandalous news that erupted into publicity.

June 27, 2005

Well, a few summers ago when I was 14, I had been modeling. Every day from 11 – 3 and then from 3 – 5. and my photographer always asked me to stay, late at night every single night, actually. He’d always dim the lights until it was completely dark in the studio. Then, he’d start his routine, his large, fat hands brushing all over my body, my luscious curves appearing, counting my ribs. I wasn’t fat at the time, I was anorexic, actually. I’ve only been fat once my entire life. And that was when I was pregnant with his baby. Those 9 months were horrid. He was 40 years old I was 14. That’s at least a 30 year age difference if not less. He was more than twice my age. And yet he picked me.

Well, the modeling studio closed down after that, returning to the old abandoned house it once was, he got put behind bars, and, the media publicised everything. You couldn’t turn round without seeing my story on the front cover of some magazine or newspaper. It was horrid.

My little girl’s 3 years old now and living far far away from me. I miss her so much every day. My sweet beautiful daughter. But I cant see her until I’m 18. One year from now, exactly. Don’t want the same thing to happen to her that’s happened to me. One day, maybe, when I’m 19, she and I are going to live off on our own, away from all of this. She’ll be 5 then.

She’s one thing I kept secret one thing I don’t want anyone finding out. I should’ve learned to keep other things secret to. Like my beauty, for example. Oh well too late now. This is why I don’t encourage other girls to go into modeling. It ruins them forever.’

‘nov. 25

12/24 03 or 04

WITH ONLY GRANDMOTHER

A memoir and work in progress by anne b. young

Chapter 1

“Now would you like anything to drink?” my grandmother carol asked me.
“I’ll have some sun tea thank you,” I replied.
My grandmother went into the kitchen.
“Coming?” she called, asking.
“In a minute,” was my answer.
My grandmother sensed that I wanted to be alone.
“All right dear.”

I missed my parents so much. It had been nearly a year since they had died. And after they did my grandmother sweet as she was had taken my sister and I in to live with her.

But…and this fear was still sitting in the back of my mind…what would happen to us when she died? Who would take us in then?
I tried not to think about it too much. But still I still couldn’t get over it.

I mean sure wed be able to take care of ourselves after awhile but then…what about after that?

I was surprised my grandmother had lived longer than my parents. It’s just…I didn’t expect her to. No one did. Not the doctors not anyone. But after our parents died grandmother got sick. Very sick. She was hospitalised she was so sick. My sister and I visited her every day. We told her everything that happened in school. And we brought her our papers and she helped us with our homework.

That was for the first few months that she was sick. But then…it got worse and worse and she got worse and worse. And we started skipping school which she didn’t like but we told her that wed rather be with her than at school.

At one point she almost died. It’s a miracle she didn’t.

In the first few months after our parents died it was especially hard for us. Most every day my sister and I would go down in the basement and fight while grandmother was away then we’d usually end up in tears afterwards. And as soon as grandmother returned shed come down the stairs to comfort us. And then wed all have a little snack while we talked and cried laughed and shared memories.

It’s the memories that are the hardest I had realized a few years ago. And sometimes especially after our parents died id have awful and good flashbacks. But it was the good memories that made me miss my parents. I still didn’t understand it. I mean who could hate my parents so much that they’d…kill them? Or want to kill them? Or wish for them dead?

Ever since I was about 9 years old a little girl I’ve had this terrible fear that my father was going to die.’

‘nov. 25

April 8 2006

“It’s a bit late to be having lunch isn’t it?” the waitress asked.
“Well, I…”
“It’s ok. What can I start you off with?”
“Raspberry ice tea.”

She took the order and left.

It was 2 in the afternoon and I was supposed to be in class. Supposed to be. But I decided to leave I wouldn’t be missed anyway. The thing is where could I go? I could go to the library and read about people who were further gone than I was. Unfortunately I didn’t know who that would be.

Or write. I perhaps could go back to school and wait in the auditorium but for what? The school day to end I suppose. And then I’d have to go home, which I was dreading. I suppose I could always stay in the school overnight and try to get some homework done since I hadn’t been doing my homework recently. Not that it mattered. I may as well not have been there. I was invisible a doorway that everyone walked through. Just bury me alive and throw lilies on my grave. Burn roses and scatter the black petals on top of the cold grass.

It was one of those days just one of those days. It was also one of those days where my depression got to me. Home. No one was home when I arrived home. One might say I lived with my mother even though she was never around. I just went to school came home went to school came home. Its not that I didn’t have any interests its just that I never wanted to do them. Except maybe writing. Sometimes.’

‘nov. 26

19th bday party
We were explaining to my grandmother memory cards and she said ‘well why would you want to buy a crd that has someone else’s pictures already on it?’. We all laughed and Kate said “they’re empty when you but them.”
At lunch my uncle Ty said “I imagine people”. I was thinking “well I do too but that’s called schizophrenia.”.
The older people>grandparents> kept calling tv television. It was so cute!
People say ‘it’s a boy’ rather than ‘he’s a boy’. “Hey look I had an it but it turned out to be a boy” lol.’

‘nov. 26

At Xmas last year, my grandmother gave my Aunt Joan an azalea and my grandmother said “it has to be kept somewhere dark like a closet.”. I was sitting there thinking “hey the plant’s coming out of the closet!”. He he.’

‘nov. 26

Friday July 28 2006
It hasn’t been the best summer. There have been some good parts, such as my sister and I going out to eat, and her giving me the butterfly and at the movies. But it’s been very emotional. And sometimes I think it’s the worst summer I’ve had, which may be stretching it.

There’s been a lot of anger from my mother and as usual my father wasn’t emotionally there. And I’m getting to know my sister and who she really is. Somehow, after she and my mother have an argument, I’m always up in Kate’s room, knocking on her door and listening and offering advice and hugs. And her dog because he makes her happy. There weren’t arguments today but it still is on my mind.

My mother’s anger scares me and always has and always will. I luv my sister and want her to be happy, which is why I help her. In our house, after that happens, there isn’t anyone else for her to go to so she has me. Also, it’s in my nature to help people, and love them.

I know what I want for other people but not for myself. So much has happened this summer so much has changed. And at the movies I was really happy and everything was beautiful. And I guess I should hold onto that. But that’s one of the things I’m going to miss when I go away to college. I’ll also miss my sister a lot. Over the past year we’ve grown a lot closer. She means everything to me. She isn’t as emotional as I am and nothing really bothers her. But I don’t know what’s going to happen when I’m in Florida. She has her boyfriend to talk to. But…I don’t know. She can always call or e-mail me. I’ll always be there for her.

The butterfly symbolised beauty and fragility for me. I luv butterflies. They’re free to go wherever they please but they die really really easily, sort of like me. Most of last year I felt dead inside. Last year was very difficult for me. I don’t know how I came to feel alive again.

Everyone who meets/talks to me can tell how sweet and beautiful I am. Everyone. I guess I’m just one of those people.

And maybe the butterfly represents my emotional stability, or instability. Being between stable and unstable and not knowing what’s going to happen.’

‘nov. 26

Jan 30 06
OK soooooo.........right, update; yeah last night I attempted.
I don’t know why I did it. As in, attempted. Don’t ask why cuz I don’t know. Some things in life can’t be explained.
And I seriously was preparing for death. I kept thinking of one of Ali - my best friend - one of her favourite quotes; ‘Death is just a state of mind’. So, apparently, is suffering. I guess anything can be. Or, is, rather.
And I was like ‘I’m sorry please don’t blame yourself please don’t ask my why bc I don’t know’. And then about halfway through I’m like ‘wait what am I doing? What the hell am I doing?’.

And then it’s like ‘um, what just happened?’. Yeah I tend to trance sometimes. It’s kind of freaky.
I still don’t know why. But I read online - on SH, actually - that when someone attempts suicide or is thinking of attempting it, it usually means that the person is under too much pressure and they can’t handle it. So, I don’t know.
Oh, and whenever I say ‘attempt’ or ‘I attempted’ it, as in, suicide.
People have every right to be worried about me. And they should. I don’t mean to frighten them here but I’m being honest. Sometimes, honesty and fear are confused.
I’m sorry I worry them. But they also know that with this kind of stuff - S.I., suicide, depression, etc - I’m going to be completely honest with them. ‘

---

‘Nov. 26

Jan 18 2005 or 2006

I actually made my bed this morning and collected the trash. Yay.
After I got ready for the day I went to Starbucks. The coffee was terrible, but it kept my hands warm which is always a plus. The donut was good.

I couldn’t find which bus stop to go to, which was rather eventful. Then I got on the bus blah blah blah.

Got to school, had Algebra in which I paid no attention which makes sense why I didn’t get it. Then I had Art yay Art.

Oh before Art I cut.

In art I drew. And wrote, which was good.
So, the donut/coffee thing, the fact that I got out of the house, and the writing were good. . The cutting prolly wasnt the best thing to do. .

o ya during Art people were protesting the CPAs. I mean CSAPs.

So then after Art, I was upstairs getting a snack from the vending machine and these black girls - not that I have anything against black people it’s just they’re so damn loud, and these ones were particularly rude to me - they’re all ‘hey girl!’ um who are you talking to?
‘hey girl!’ I didn’t no who they were talking to.
‘hey girl!’

exasperated sigh
‘what?’ And I mean, I yelled that. And then I just walked away. They’re all ‘do you have any batteries?’ what the hell. And then they mimicked me which made my day worse.
Well I’m like ‘ok I’m gonna go downstairs where people actually like me’ which I did. See I dont really hang out w/ my friends, which prolly made it worse. And I’m not sayin all black people are like that. Idinno.

But you know there I was mindin my own business. But ya know w/e. They’re prolly jealous or sumtin I dinno and I don’t really care.

A few hours later, my dad was downstairs and hes like ‘we have some rice for you’ ‘thats um well thats good for you then’. If I want something to eat I’ll get it myself thank you.’

‘Nov. 26

It was 5 a.m. and i was getting ready for ballet class in the dressing room. I started to pull on my tights and noticed that my toes were already bleeding but that was nothing new. I took the abuse as it came to me. I set my tights aside and wrapped my toes in gauze. I then started to put my tights back on. as I was doing so my eyes caught sight of a large burn on the inside of my right thigh. my eyes closed and I leaned back against the wall, exhaling. I flashed back to last night;

 I was asleep, in my bed and it was around 11 p.m. exactly 7 hours from now. I was laying under the covers wearing my white nightgown. I felt something hot hiss against my thigh, which woke me up. "ow!" I screamed. "what the hell?" whatever it was pressed harder, branding me like a cow. A cow maybe that’s what the argument was about I really don’t remember. I?m a vegetarian and our family was having meat for dinner. I didn’t have any and so an argument occurred. oddly enough I wasn’t branded with the iron until much later. this had happened several times, not only to me but to my other well, 'siblings' for lack of a better term. My parents had learned to burn me in places less visible, such as the inside of my legs. They knew if they burned me other places I would tell someone. I would have to start wearing pants to bed.

I had woken up at 4 a.m. this morning to practice ballet which is why my toes were already bleeding by the time I arrived.

Family. Some family. I was one of the few white girls living here. Here. Not my home, but here. Well it was someone's home just not mine. My 'siblings' were from different parts of the world; Asia, Africa, Mexico, South America, Italy, Puerto Rico . . .The girls from Asia were white but not the same way the word is defined in the States. They had pale skin and were absolutely beautiful. Not even our 'parents' were white. I had this theory that our 'parents' weren't our actual parents. Our actual parents were still out there somewhere, waiting for us. At least, mine were. This was more like a group home than an actual one and I had been abused in all the ways possible. Most of us had. And still were.

As I was tying the ribbons of my pink satin toe shoes around my ankles my eyes caught sight of white gauze wrapped around my wrist. I had done this before my ballet practice and it bled on my carpet floor as frequently happened. I closed my eyes once more and leaned against the wall again. Images flashed through my mind; a little girl, about 8 years old, blonde hair. She had on a white dress and light blue Mary Janes. She was smiling an evil smile but I couldn’t see the rest of her face. She was holding a bouquet of buttercup-coloured hyacinths in her small hands. Her hair was the same color. The rest of her face was blurred out and the background behind the little girl was white and sort of blurred.

 The next image was of a single black iris in front of a black background. The stem the only thing not black, it was green.

The third image was of a lake, a lake I had seen previously in a park I had seen previously. The lake was quite large, and round with murky green waters and green moss growing on the water's surface at the lake's edge. Dipping a petal into the water was a black lily, drooping with the weight of the petal. Everything was still and the background behind the lily was the same murky green as the water.

The following and fourth image was of me, laying in my bed, the white and lilac bedding covering me. My eyes were closed but I was breathing. [It reminded me of a painting of Ophelia I had recently seen online]. The bedding was covered with a thousand white lilies and perched on the lilies were dead black butterflies.

    The fifth image was again of me, and the gravestone beside me. The gravestone was only about 2 feet high and while I couldn't read the engravings on it I knew it was mine. The leaves were twirling in the wind and it was a dark gray day.

  Following the fifth image were 2 more; the first was of several newspaper headlines, one after another like a flipbook; 'Girl, 17, dead', 'Girl, age 17, dead', 'Young girl dead at age 17'.

  What came after the headlines was more of a movie than an image. It was a news report; 'Coming up on 9News at 6; a young girl is dead at the age of 17. The cause is unknown'.

I took the abuse as it came to me. I exhaled again as a tear sprang from my eye and I thought of that [horrifyingly true] Eurythmics song:
Sweet dreams are made of this

who am I to disagree?

I’ve traveled the world and the seven seas

Everybody’s lookin for somethin.

Some of them want to use you

Some of them want to be used by you

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them want be abused.

Some days, I didn’t even want to live. Some days, I wish I was already dead.

The End’

‘Nov. 26
1; silence does not equal guilty

2; the police think you broke the law but its up to the judge to decide that

3; people go to court for different things

4; the court room had existed since 1876

5; people write on the back of the ‘

‘Nov. 26

some living ones on this earth
most beautiful people you will ever find
sweetest people you will ever find
glow when they’re really happy
see all the good in the world
luv pretty things’

‘Nov. 26

wrote on August 03, 2005, at 3;30 p.m.

but nobody’s lisening

but nobodys lissening
no one hears u scream
no one even bothers
so why should i?

u know theyll listen
the quiet dark angels hiding within the shadows
but they dont ask.

and you know
you should tell them.
but ur waiting
for them to notice
your silence.

and then of course
they’ll ask
and you dont tell them.

youre on the verge
of telling her
everythings fine.
when she knows
its clearly not.
you dont wanna worry her
or make it worse.

she says you wont.
but how do you really know
how do you know
what they never tell you
the secrets they hide
for fear
of putting you on the verge
of suicide.

you dont wanna worry them
or make it worse.
but somedays
u get so desperate
that youll talk to anyone
even
if they wont listen
just
to talk.

no one asks you
what you need
they assume
youll tell them.

well, what if you dont?
then what?
so you sit back
holding in your tears
in the dark shadows of your twisted mind
and try to stay calm.

you try to convince the world your fine
but
youre the farthest thing from it.

“black halo black wings. but still wings and a halo.” ‘

‘Nov. 26

Making spaghetti backwards: from the end: pasta October 15, 2006

The dishes are in the dishwasher. The dishes were put in the dishwasher then washed in the sink. I ate the pasta. The cheese goes on top of the pasta. Tomato sauce. The pasta’s in the strainer. The pastas being split more goes into the pot. The water boils. The pot’s in the sink. The water’s in the spot. The stoves turned on the directions are read. How do I cook pasta? I want pasta. I don’t think I cooked it correctly. The end. Or is it the beginning?’

‘Nov. 26

Questions

Do you ever lie? About your cuts? Do you ever feel bad about it, does it bother you? Or are you fine with it, completely ambivalint. [SP?] You’re trying to save yourself from being hurt but the lies only end up turning around and hurting you. But no one can hurt you more than you’ve hurt yourself. Yesterday morning was the first time I fully understood that. Or can they?

You don’t want them to worry which is why you protect them from seeing from knowing from believing. But you’re also protecting yourself.

You barely know some people so why should you care what they think? Or how they feel. About you.

Try as we might we all care what people think on some level.

If they don’t understand you don’t connect with you why should you talk to them? Why?

That’s how I am.

Or if they don’t fit your mold. It’s incredibly embarassing to realise this that this is who you are.

Certain people, know exactly what they want and who they are and what’s right wrong. I’m not one of those people. I’m so mixed up inside.

I guess I kind of push people away which makes sense considering my past. I trust people but then…I don’t.

I honestly don’t know. I’m so confused I’m so mixed up. I’m so terribly embarassed.

I’m sorry.’

‘Nov. 26

Paper Thin

The walls are paper thin

I have to force myself to breathe

Everything is heard.

                    -aby. Sept. 2, 2006'

‘Nov. 26

Walking Through A Fog

I’m walking through a fog

I can hardly hear you

I need to surface.

        -aby. Sept 2, 2006'

‘Nov. 26

Rubbing Alcohol

It stings for 5 seconds

But I’ve learned how to deal with the pain

Because I’ve been in much more/worse

                    -aby sept. 2, 2006'

‘Nov. 26

Hibiscus Blossom

It’s always been there

but I didn’t notice it

until Monday

and then it disappeared

just like that clover in the crack in the tower

in Ireland.

Or has it?

waiting for you to take notice.

Was it always there

there one day and gone the next

but why?

        -sept. 13, 2006'

‘Nov. 26

English Class

Do you realize you’re the only ones in the room talking?

Doesn’t that feel weird to you?

You’re an incredibly happy person who won’t shut up

This bothers me so much.

You’re the show and were the audience

Not much of a show if we’re not entertained.
More people file in

It’s now 12:30 class is supposed to start

I suddenly realize I’m hungry

Their voices drive me insane

And food makes you fat

Except for fruit

How much weight can you gain from fruit?

The teacher’s here it’s 12:35

It’s a lot quieter

Time for class.

        -9/13/06'

‘Nov. 26

City Life

Cigarette smoke on the stairs

Perfume lingering in the bathroom

Beer bottles lying on the ground

Some open, cracked

All of them signs of —

Glass sparkles in the sunlight

Hitting it a certain way on the asphalt

One tear and the tire deflated

People sitting too close to each other on the subway

In the big houses champagne glasses bubble and expensive silverware clinks.
Clouds drift apart people fade away

Darkness enfulges them.

                                -fall 06'

‘Nov. 26

Grrrrr god tonight’s going slow. Er, this morning, rather. OMG. It’s usually like 6 by now. Sloooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwww.

I’m hungry. Oh I know! Food!

And I don’t know where there are any um..........thingerdudes. Wal*Marts. I’m actually really comfortable. Well other than the fact that I can feel my uh pelvic bones. Man I hate that. Is it possible that I lost about a pound since Wednesday? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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ZZZZZZ
ZZZZ

ZZZ

ZZ

Z

they look like 7’s.’

‘Nov. 26

Kicked To The Curb, Quite Literally

Kicked to the curb, quite literally

Thrown out of the house

Now cold

Sitting there, on the curb

Which you were kicked to.

Cold, pretty, alone in your black hoodie and jeans.

Sneakers adorn the feet, black ones.

The shoes, that is.

Long brown hair, dark eyes.

Looking up at the world.

And there you are,

On the curb.

        -aby. Nov. 26, 2006'

‘Nov. 26

Well, yesterday I was awokened>is that even a word?>what woke me up was The Dream. In particular, the Grudge girl. She was in my dream. I don’t know why She was crawling. Sometimes my dreams don’t involve actual rooms just this white ......thing, is the best way to describe it. She had a hella lot of hair. It was horrifying!’

‘Nov. 26

Ok so I was in this subway station, at the um head of the stair........case.......well.........thinger. And this pale Japanese lady in a red coat n gray short skirt yelled up to me ‘don’t go down there! no one’s been down there since 194444444111111111111!’ at the same time she yelled ‘she was murdered in 1944444444444444411111111111!’. Then this appeared: October 14.’

‘Nov. 26

Ok so my grandmother’s going to have foot surgery tomorrow morning. Idinno it just kind of reminds me of when everyone was paying attention to my father 2 Xmas’s ago and it is almost Xmas. I luv my grandmother but.......Idinno.’

‘Nov. 26

Ok so apparently Karma wants to move into an apartment w/ her friend for the new year. Only problem is Karma’s relying on her friend for money. Not a good idea. And she tells me I’m not self-sufficient. I luv her but grrr. Pretty damn soon she’s gonna be w/o money and I’m guessin she prolly won’t be able to rely on him for money anymore. Which means that she’s going to either a; get and keep a job or b; the alternative.

sigh.’

---

Last updated April 10, 2015