Am I Beautiful?

05/19/2015

Kathy, I hate you. Like, I love you, but I hate that you’re having me make a fucking diary. I hope an audio journal is okay. I write so much already, I’d intentionally OD on my Zoloft if I had to write MORE without even getting paid for it.

05/20/2015

Hey. I’m sorry last night’s entry was so sassy. You’re right, I’m getting worse. You’re the therapist after all. Good news! I am going to see Annie on Friday! She wants to go to Dave & Buster’s or something, but I am just really excited to see her. I’m going to start doing these more often starting Friday. I have to get on track. I wanna get better, Kathy.

05/22/2015

I’m currently plowing through the dead dark of a very dead night. I’m having a lot of hyperfixations. This has been the norm for far too long though. I’ve had really bad anxiety since I was a kid. Kathy also said the other day that she wants to test me for ADHD sometime this month. It’s so dark out tonight. The stars look so pretty! Mom always used to tell me that stars were little alien campfires in the sky.

Sorry, I got off in my own little world.

Annie wrote me the cutest little note. She taped it onto a box of Sour Patch Kids. She’s the sweetest kid, I swear.

Thank you for taking me to D&B. I love you.

-Your favorite sister

I don’t have a favorite sister, but Annie makes a good case for herself. Yeah, Marsha and Bev are lovely, but Annie might be God’s ideal image of love. The warmth in her heart is only paralleled by the overwhelming rush of fulfillment I get every chance that I get to see her. It’s why I agree to go to her silly little carnivals, malls, or whatever she suggests; I can never say no to her ideas, I’d feel so bad saying no to that little ball of “fun”. I know you say it’s not my fault that I don’t get to see her much anymore, it just still feels like my fault. It’s okay, though. When I graduate I’m going to get a cushy job, move out to Austin, and then me and Annie will be like we used to be: essentially joined at the hip. Yeah.

My apartment makes me happy. I know you said it’s something to do with me having control over something, but I just like having a clean place. My place, my writings, Annie, Bev, Marsha, and Panko are the only things that keep me going sometimes. You too, Kathy. I know I was mad about doing this but I really appreciate what you do.

FUCK, I forgot to change Panko’s litter this morning.

05/23/2015

I took so long to get out of bed this morning. After finally opening my eyes, nothing seemed more Sisyphean than having to arise from my cozy little world.

My pills taste so bad if I don’t get water to chase them down soon enough! They didn't taste that way with my last prescription; I should talk to Dr. Munn about that.

Bev called me this morning, she was talking about mom. I know she didn’t mean to make me upset. Like yeah, she accepted what happened, but I can’t unsee that day. I never told you this, but I have this recurring nightmare about that day. Well, at least I think that’s what it’s about. I’m standing in the middle of an expanse, the whole thing is red-brown-ish. Every so often there is a tug at my hand, right where hers was on mine when it all happened. After like 3 or 4 of them I hear Mom scream and that makes me want to rip my ears off, in the dream I do. Think the Joker screaming, but 6 octaves higher and lower at the same time. With the scream my arm is completely ripped off, but I don’t feel it. Then I see Mom’s face, but it has entirely swallowed the surrounding sky. She isn’t looking at me, she’s looking right through me. Then I wake up.

Like I said, I know Bev didn’t mean to upset me by bringing her up, but it’s like “come on, man”. She just doesn’t get it. I can’t blame her, though; she didn’t even know what happened till the cops brought me home that night.

Hi, so it’s been a couple hours. I calmed down. I did those breathing techniques we talked about. I just black out when I get really sad or mad. I hate how my brain works sometimes, Kathy. I really hope you find some answers with this whole journal thing. My good days are so good. I feel like a light, nice, happy, wholesome kid when I am rooted. It’s the days that I feel like a different human. Days that I feel like an ugly, awful animal. Those are the days I can’t stand. I feel like everyone hates me, and I understand, I am a lot.

05/24/2015

Thank God, today is an up day. I just got up and out of bed right when I woke up. After lots of down days, these up days feel so good.

I just worked out, and I really feel like a million bucks, Kathy. On my up days, I love everything about my body. My big puff sweaters are so comfy, my shorts make my legs look jacked as hell. I really like the way my hair looks right now. The way it sits on my head and bounces when I move. Why can’t I feel like this all the time? My down days all I can see are my flaws, “That belly is still a little jiggly huh? You like your hair like that? God, your chin is so fucking pointy and ugly.” I can barely stand to see my reflection anywhere. I don’t know why I can’t get myself to do these things that make me have up days more often. Doing things in my day makes me feel so good, just doing anything. That’s why it makes me so frustrated and upset that they seem so unattainable some days! I don’t know, I hope you can figure out how to make me do them.

Hi...I must be having an episode. I’m in my bed and I swear on my life I just heard my mom ask me to open my door and let her in. It isn’t like the hallucinations, Kathy. This was a real sound made by a real per-... something. It sounded just like mom, but it wasn’t mom. It was like “Bea-eau o-open yu-o-o----rrr-r-r-r- doo-ope- door”. I’m absolutely paralysed right now. I can’t get my hands to do anything. I got to my voice memo app but then my hands just quit. I’m frozen.

I am still staring at the door. It said it again. It sounded just like mom did when she was mad this time. This isn’t an episode. Whatever is out there is real and very angry with me. I don’t know what to do, my phone doesn’t have any servi- AURAUUHUHHH-it just banged on my door. Oh jesus. Now it's tapping. But not with a finger or a hand. It sounds like it’s hitting my door with, like, a wet sponge or something. I see liquid pooling under my door. It’s not blood, it’s black. It gets a little bigger every time it taps on the door. This thing is real right? It has to be.

05/26/2015

I was staring at the door all of yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t make an entry. I was only able to get a video of it talking. Please don’t be mad at me. Mom hasn’t stopped talking since she started tapping my door. She sounds so mad. She’s so mad and her voice got a lot lower. She’s so mad at me.

This is so terrifying. Is this real? I got a good video and you can hear her talking and tapping the door, but I can’t send it to you yet. I don’t know why, but I can’t get any signal right now.

05/30/2015

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t even get myself to take my eyes off of the door handle. She hasn’t even touched it yet.

I FINALLY HAVE SIGNAL

Holy shit, okay.

I’m going to call Annie.

Hello? Annie? Please help me. Mom is trying to get into my room. She’s trying to kill me Annie please help me I don’t wanna die please please help me Annie I can’t move. AnnieI’msittinghereinmyownshitand pissIcan’tmovepleaseIcantmove. Please help me Annie please.

W-what?

No I haven’t.

Because I can’t move, please Annie help me.

Okay. I understand.

I just have to take my meds and I’ll be okay.

Bye Annie. I love you.

Kathy I am so sorry. I took all my pills. Annie said I would be okay. She got louder and louder so I just kept taking them. I’m all out now and she’s still there. I don’t feel good. I think I messed up. I think I am going to die. Mom is really quiet now. She sounds like she isn’t mad at me anymore. I think she wanted this. Please don’t be mad at me, Kathy. I think she wanted revenge for me getting her killed that day. I’m sorry Kathy. I sent you the video and hopefully I can send my logs before I go to sleep tonight. I am sorry you have to hear all of this. Mom is quiet.

I feel very light now.

It feels like I’m on a cloud.

I feel beautiful.

Am I beautiful, Kathy?