I love you Sis by Madelyn McDonald (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) š
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my arm on the 13th I think it was. On the 17th of March I tried to kill myself.
I wanted the control and the power cutting gave me. I liked it, oh how I LOVED it! I could finally say I controlled something, then I decided that I wanted to control my own death. Obviously that didnāt work, or else I wouldnāt be here right now.
I ended up in the hospital the next day. I didnāt cut myself deep. But after I told my counselor that Thursday, she said that she wanted me to go to the hospital. Well, she called her supervisor, and my dad. After she called my dad, my gramma was called. She was running errands, and her phone was off, but we were able to get a hold of her in the end. Well, I was brought to the hospital where I was evaluated, or something. They wanted to keep me for a couple days, but they decided that it was okay for me to go to my grammaās for a couple months (I am at my grammas right now.)
Nightmares every night
every night nightmares attack, and there just seems to be no way to stop them. I wake up frightened and alone. If only I could control my dreams, that would be the day, that would be the blessed day. The night that I am nightmare free I will be happy and well rested, until then, I am haunted and alone.
Waiting rooms
I must say that I really do hate waiting rooms. They annoy and bug the hell outta me. I hate waiting in general. It is not fun, it is just plain stupid. But here I sit in the waiting room of a psychologist place. I am not too excited about it. Out patient therapy. Woo-hoo. I would say I hate it but Iāve never even tried it, but it sounds justā¦weird. Just saying. I can, however, express my hate for waiting rooms. I hate sitting and I hate being quiet. Well, I donāt hate sitting, but I do hat the quiet. And here I sit, trying to pass the time, writing in my bookā¦ugh!
Stray Kittens
Kittens. Four were alive. One was alive one day, dead the next. I never met it alive. I thought the kitten was sleeping, but it wasnāt. As soon as I touched it, I knew. It was stiff, and itās eyes were puffed and white. It was attacked by a respiratory disease. Its siblings had it too. They were are being treated though. That kitten wasnāt treated, not because we decided to not include him, but because when we found them, he didnāt have it. You see, the disease is contagious to cats.
The cats we got had it too when they were kittens. They were strays too. However, I am getting off topic. I play with the little stray kittens, theyāre so cute!! Itās funny to look out the window when I am done playing with them and seeing the mom sniffing them, then look at me through the glass like she is thanking me for not hurting them, but accusing me of touching her precious babies.
They all have distinct personalities. One is cautious, and stalks like a lion. She has the personalities of a lion. Thatās what I call her. Sweet lion. Then there is Warrior. He is very relaxed and loves to sleepā¦until you show him a string. Then he is all over it. And if you rub his chest heāll play with your pinkie. Raccoonās fur looks just like his name, a raccoon. He loves being on my lap, but is obsessed with hands and cleaning his and his siblings fur. If I put my hand on the ground, he HAS to sit on it. And if you pet him, he loves it, but he HAS to clean where you pet him almost immediately after. The last kitten I have to talk about is the gray one. I havenāt played with him because he wasnāt there with the others when I played with them, but when we put medicine in his eyes (to help get rid of the respiratory disease) it was plain to see heās just like our cat, Trouble. Trouble lives up to his name. ļ So, I named him Trouble Jr. he should be proud of it, Trouble is a good, gentle cat. When you play with trouble, he never scratches, even if you accidentally hurt him (oops! ļ). well, then there is the mom, I just call her the mom because we have only really met long distance so that kinda gets rid of finding any distinct personalities. :p I just canāt get that dead Siamese cat out of my head though. :ā(
Sad eyes
His eyes look sad. They hold painful memories and unspeakable thoughts. Maybe thatās why he usually doesnāt talk about what he is thinkingā¦.well, the point is that even though he may be āhappyā he always seems to have that sad blanket underlying his transparent happy eyes.
Tasmanian
Taz is my dog. needless to say it is short for Tasmanian. He is a coward, and I love him. He hates it when you put your face next to his, but he loves his head pet. He is amazing. his birthday is today, July 6th. I got him a couple months ago, and I knew that he was supposed to be my dog as soon as I had him in my arms. there is so much to say about Taz, I just donāt know how to put it all into words, he is my baby, and I hope that I will have him until the day he dies. which will be a ways down the road because he is only a year old. he likes to sleep on the foot of my bed, and he likes to curl up in my arms when we watch TV, and he likes to take nap in my arms. Heās a morning dog, he loves to play chase with the cats in the morning. He likes to hide from people that he doesnāt know, and heās (understandably) scared of my dad. I never want to let him go, heās my baby ļ
The ultimate excuse
Many may not agree with me that the ādevilā is the ultimate excuse. The ādevilā is used as an excuse by too many Christians when something has gone wrong. If a building falls they say it is the work of the ādevilā. Well, just thought Iād give a newsflash; the ādevilā did not crash the twin towers, nor did he posses the men who did crash them. The ādevilā does not exist. He is an excuse for people who know theyāve done wrong, or have seen some loved one do something wrong. The ādevilā did NOT posses my step-brother to rape me, he did that because he is sick in the headā¦not because the ādevilā made him sick in the head, but just because he is a narcissistic bad man. Need I go on? I happen to believe in godā¦.well, gods. Luna, and I guess you would say in a way the Christian god. However, I do NOT believe in the devil.
Imprint
I wanted the control and the power cutting gave me. I liked it, oh how I LOVED it! I could finally say I controlled something, then I decided that I wanted to control my own death. Obviously that didnāt work, or else I wouldnāt be here right now.
I ended up in the hospital the next day. I didnāt cut myself deep. But after I told my counselor that Thursday, she said that she wanted me to go to the hospital. Well, she called her supervisor, and my dad. After she called my dad, my gramma was called. She was running errands, and her phone was off, but we were able to get a hold of her in the end. Well, I was brought to the hospital where I was evaluated, or something. They wanted to keep me for a couple days, but they decided that it was okay for me to go to my grammaās for a couple months (I am at my grammas right now.)
Nightmares every night
every night nightmares attack, and there just seems to be no way to stop them. I wake up frightened and alone. If only I could control my dreams, that would be the day, that would be the blessed day. The night that I am nightmare free I will be happy and well rested, until then, I am haunted and alone.
Waiting rooms
I must say that I really do hate waiting rooms. They annoy and bug the hell outta me. I hate waiting in general. It is not fun, it is just plain stupid. But here I sit in the waiting room of a psychologist place. I am not too excited about it. Out patient therapy. Woo-hoo. I would say I hate it but Iāve never even tried it, but it sounds justā¦weird. Just saying. I can, however, express my hate for waiting rooms. I hate sitting and I hate being quiet. Well, I donāt hate sitting, but I do hat the quiet. And here I sit, trying to pass the time, writing in my bookā¦ugh!
Stray Kittens
Kittens. Four were alive. One was alive one day, dead the next. I never met it alive. I thought the kitten was sleeping, but it wasnāt. As soon as I touched it, I knew. It was stiff, and itās eyes were puffed and white. It was attacked by a respiratory disease. Its siblings had it too. They were are being treated though. That kitten wasnāt treated, not because we decided to not include him, but because when we found them, he didnāt have it. You see, the disease is contagious to cats.
The cats we got had it too when they were kittens. They were strays too. However, I am getting off topic. I play with the little stray kittens, theyāre so cute!! Itās funny to look out the window when I am done playing with them and seeing the mom sniffing them, then look at me through the glass like she is thanking me for not hurting them, but accusing me of touching her precious babies.
They all have distinct personalities. One is cautious, and stalks like a lion. She has the personalities of a lion. Thatās what I call her. Sweet lion. Then there is Warrior. He is very relaxed and loves to sleepā¦until you show him a string. Then he is all over it. And if you rub his chest heāll play with your pinkie. Raccoonās fur looks just like his name, a raccoon. He loves being on my lap, but is obsessed with hands and cleaning his and his siblings fur. If I put my hand on the ground, he HAS to sit on it. And if you pet him, he loves it, but he HAS to clean where you pet him almost immediately after. The last kitten I have to talk about is the gray one. I havenāt played with him because he wasnāt there with the others when I played with them, but when we put medicine in his eyes (to help get rid of the respiratory disease) it was plain to see heās just like our cat, Trouble. Trouble lives up to his name. ļ So, I named him Trouble Jr. he should be proud of it, Trouble is a good, gentle cat. When you play with trouble, he never scratches, even if you accidentally hurt him (oops! ļ). well, then there is the mom, I just call her the mom because we have only really met long distance so that kinda gets rid of finding any distinct personalities. :p I just canāt get that dead Siamese cat out of my head though. :ā(
Sad eyes
His eyes look sad. They hold painful memories and unspeakable thoughts. Maybe thatās why he usually doesnāt talk about what he is thinkingā¦.well, the point is that even though he may be āhappyā he always seems to have that sad blanket underlying his transparent happy eyes.
Tasmanian
Taz is my dog. needless to say it is short for Tasmanian. He is a coward, and I love him. He hates it when you put your face next to his, but he loves his head pet. He is amazing. his birthday is today, July 6th. I got him a couple months ago, and I knew that he was supposed to be my dog as soon as I had him in my arms. there is so much to say about Taz, I just donāt know how to put it all into words, he is my baby, and I hope that I will have him until the day he dies. which will be a ways down the road because he is only a year old. he likes to sleep on the foot of my bed, and he likes to curl up in my arms when we watch TV, and he likes to take nap in my arms. Heās a morning dog, he loves to play chase with the cats in the morning. He likes to hide from people that he doesnāt know, and heās (understandably) scared of my dad. I never want to let him go, heās my baby ļ
The ultimate excuse
Many may not agree with me that the ādevilā is the ultimate excuse. The ādevilā is used as an excuse by too many Christians when something has gone wrong. If a building falls they say it is the work of the ādevilā. Well, just thought Iād give a newsflash; the ādevilā did not crash the twin towers, nor did he posses the men who did crash them. The ādevilā does not exist. He is an excuse for people who know theyāve done wrong, or have seen some loved one do something wrong. The ādevilā did NOT posses my step-brother to rape me, he did that because he is sick in the headā¦not because the ādevilā made him sick in the head, but just because he is a narcissistic bad man. Need I go on? I happen to believe in godā¦.well, gods. Luna, and I guess you would say in a way the Christian god. However, I do NOT believe in the devil.
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-17-2011
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