Today this guy called me regarding why I cancelled tomorrows appointment. He seems real nice on the phone and apart of me thinks that maybe he could help me.....but I will never know that.
Tomorrow, my ex Meg wants to come up to see me in the morning to my house. I HAD to tell my husband by first saying i ran into Meg and she mentioned she wants to come up and see us.
Im not sure about this visit. Dont know if she knows its his day off. I will get a text tomorrow about it and I will remind her that its Erics day off from work.
Of course Eric wants me to let go of her and for her to let go of me.....thats normal.
Meg and I went shopping with Sophie to the superstore and sobeys today. It was fast but still time spent together.
What are we doing anyway? I dont even know!
The video ur about to see is MISSy and I. We had a fling when we were younger...she done alot of sleeps over to my house....this is one of them..
Monday, 22 August 2011
Sunday, 21 August 2011
pick any song-I can tell you a story about it...
I remember when my life was out of control and when I was in complete control by the people inside the system. that burned me so much and gave me so much pain and sorrow. The idea that they couldnt help me continued to prove itself after 14 years. I remain unfixed and still in such tragic pieces.
My life is based on music. I live from music. If I list a song, it played a part in my life, my emotions and how I felt. Music can either MAKE me or BREAK me.
If I listn to Carrie by Europe, it makes me want to die. so i try and avoid it. It takes me back when I was 13. I was about to be transferred because I was burning my wrist with a curling iron in a hospital. they couldnt handle me.
I remember the day so clearly.
I was only there for one month and I had this one song in a tape. I played it over and over. Everynight I couldnt sleep and everynight I wanted to die.
The night before the transfer, a male cordinator asked into the office and wanted me to sleep in his make shift bed. I was 13 and wantd him to have sex with me but he wouldnt. I never had sex before but my body wanted it in the worst way.
The first time I had an orgasm was when I was 6 or 7 by someone touching me.
That morning I had to pack my things in my room. He came with me and sat on the floor. He talked to me and I kept asking him to have sex with me before I leave.
I was 13 and he was 30. He was a very nice guy. He promised if I left, he would visit me and buy me a bike if i got out. I believed him.
He said he would kiss me. I wanted that kiss so bad.
It never happened because as he leaned in, my worker opened the door and she didnt think anything and he made it look like he was helping me pack.
When they left the room, I ran away. I ran for 30 minutes and ran to the train tracks. I laid on the tracks to die and my workers surrounded me.
The train was coming and actually honked honked and the breaks and wheels were sparking. The train stopped and I didnt die.....
2 hours later, I was in another province and in the police station. I got into a fight with a police office and it took 13 cops to control me........yup---I was angry....
"We are turning you in!" he said.
I was heading to a hospital that would keep me for 5 years!
My life is based on music. I live from music. If I list a song, it played a part in my life, my emotions and how I felt. Music can either MAKE me or BREAK me.
If I listn to Carrie by Europe, it makes me want to die. so i try and avoid it. It takes me back when I was 13. I was about to be transferred because I was burning my wrist with a curling iron in a hospital. they couldnt handle me.
I remember the day so clearly.
I was only there for one month and I had this one song in a tape. I played it over and over. Everynight I couldnt sleep and everynight I wanted to die.
The night before the transfer, a male cordinator asked into the office and wanted me to sleep in his make shift bed. I was 13 and wantd him to have sex with me but he wouldnt. I never had sex before but my body wanted it in the worst way.
The first time I had an orgasm was when I was 6 or 7 by someone touching me.
That morning I had to pack my things in my room. He came with me and sat on the floor. He talked to me and I kept asking him to have sex with me before I leave.
I was 13 and he was 30. He was a very nice guy. He promised if I left, he would visit me and buy me a bike if i got out. I believed him.
He said he would kiss me. I wanted that kiss so bad.
It never happened because as he leaned in, my worker opened the door and she didnt think anything and he made it look like he was helping me pack.
When they left the room, I ran away. I ran for 30 minutes and ran to the train tracks. I laid on the tracks to die and my workers surrounded me.
The train was coming and actually honked honked and the breaks and wheels were sparking. The train stopped and I didnt die.....
2 hours later, I was in another province and in the police station. I got into a fight with a police office and it took 13 cops to control me........yup---I was angry....
"We are turning you in!" he said.
I was heading to a hospital that would keep me for 5 years!
A drive into the past
so everytime Meg knows I am leaving the house we tend to text each other and hook up. Its becoming a serious habit.
tonight we hung out at Walmart and drove around for an hour listning to music. We talked and laughed and talked.
She asked me to go to the movies with her this Friday night on the 26th to see "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" at 650pm. I didnt say anything to her yet. I will end up going there a half hour early because I like to claim my seat early and get the best ones. I wouldnt dare ask my husband because he would flip out on me. I will be getting back to her on Wednesday.
She reminded me that i could never talk about sex without wanting it. so she talked about sex in such detail im sure she is wondering why we never pulled over. "I remember in pei we had to pull over because you couldnt handle the sex talk and we had to do it."
"You cant even watch porn without wanting it over and over, does Eric know that?"
I never answered her. "Your orgasmic....I miss that!" she added.
what alot of people dont know about me is that I am a sex addict. I think only Meg knows that. I tried to shut my body off from all her sex talk but my body struggled to stop listening to her.
My right hand was on my leg and wondered what would happen if she touched it.....I kept asking myself this over and over to make me not get sexually aroused.
After we seperated and I dropped her off at her car, I drove off to our old apartment and parked in our parking lot. I thought about what it felt like to be there. It was sad. almost like the actually apartment that we both lived in for 7 years is stuck in time. It is crazy.
I went out again for a drive after dropping off pampers to Eric and listened to music.
I wonder if the powers of the mind and heart can reach anyone and if you reach out with all your heart, you can reach someone far to come to you based on a gut feeling and actually find you!
tonight we hung out at Walmart and drove around for an hour listning to music. We talked and laughed and talked.
She asked me to go to the movies with her this Friday night on the 26th to see "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" at 650pm. I didnt say anything to her yet. I will end up going there a half hour early because I like to claim my seat early and get the best ones. I wouldnt dare ask my husband because he would flip out on me. I will be getting back to her on Wednesday.
She reminded me that i could never talk about sex without wanting it. so she talked about sex in such detail im sure she is wondering why we never pulled over. "I remember in pei we had to pull over because you couldnt handle the sex talk and we had to do it."
"You cant even watch porn without wanting it over and over, does Eric know that?"
I never answered her. "Your orgasmic....I miss that!" she added.
what alot of people dont know about me is that I am a sex addict. I think only Meg knows that. I tried to shut my body off from all her sex talk but my body struggled to stop listening to her.
My right hand was on my leg and wondered what would happen if she touched it.....I kept asking myself this over and over to make me not get sexually aroused.
After we seperated and I dropped her off at her car, I drove off to our old apartment and parked in our parking lot. I thought about what it felt like to be there. It was sad. almost like the actually apartment that we both lived in for 7 years is stuck in time. It is crazy.
I went out again for a drive after dropping off pampers to Eric and listened to music.
I wonder if the powers of the mind and heart can reach anyone and if you reach out with all your heart, you can reach someone far to come to you based on a gut feeling and actually find you!
Saturday, 20 August 2011
apartment in the sky--from book that is near finished.
Apartment in the Sky
Perhaps one could think that I have taken the system under my control. Or I have manipulated everyone into my grips of insanity.
Really?
Well, I haven’t.
This cant stop the nation from judging me, characterizing me and crucifying me on their panel for the guilty.
I am merely here on the 5th floor because the system wants to remove me from sight and alienate me from all patients.
It is true! They have build an apartment above the hospital for me to live in with my workers who were specially hired to take care of me. There will be 3 shifts and a male and female on each shift to watch me.
Insanity right?
Well, I was approached by a new case worker just yesterday to pick out the color that I would like to have in my apartment.
I picked a rusty rose and some flowery wall paper border for my room.
"Agnes, would you like to see the finished version of what our plan was for you?" JANET asked.
I could barely smile and I looked up at her.
I dropped my painting that I was attempting to make for my grandmother. I was painting on a vase. I was hoping it could decorate my grandmothers house. I was trying to make things that would enrich her home and make her happy.
JANET looked at me and said, "Smile for me!"
As if that was really important to her.
I looked her over and couldn’t help but notice she had a square shaped face and high forehead. Her bangs were cut as if Frankenstein was the new fashion.
I am a 15 year old girl who recognized that I haven’t led a normal life and I have already missed my opportunity to graduate from school and have a prom date.
Nevertheless, who would want a virgin date with 600 slashes covering their arms and who has never danced before.
I walk next to JANET who keeps looking down at me with these weird smiles. I cant distinguish whether they are fake or sincere. So I agreed with myself to take them and accept as gifts from a mentally ill person.
Only because I couldn’t read JANET. So to me, she was mentally ill.
Yet, how can the system hire a mentally ill case worker who would be leading staff to take care of me, right?
Right!
Sometimes it is just fun to place people in a tiny jar and display them for what I thought they were. But once I labeled the jar, it is hard for me to remove them from it. Yet, placing them in this jar, made them safe and separated them from me. It also allowed me to remove them as human beings.
She opened this new door and I walked in.
It is a huge hallway.
Straight ahead is another door but it has a screen on it.
A table sits on the floor to the left with a mini fridge and shelves.
To the right is a big bedroom.
The bed is nailed down to the floor and the book shelf is nailed to the wall. There is one window but it is too high to look out of.
When I walked out back into the hall way there was a tv room.
I had my grandmothers tv on the floor and chair and couch set with side tables and a coffee table.
In the back is the wash room.
I look around and feel my grandmother very close. I feel her because I have her tv. I miss her so much. I want so bad to see her and love her again. I wish I could take care of her and clean her house. I would love to cook for her and feed her.
I always loved watching her eat.
Yet, my reality is here. This rusty rose color is sickening. It is almost irritating.
I wonder how long it will take before I screw this up and ruin everything.
I am still afflicted with these strange disorders and illnesses. I have not been healed and no one is able to help me.
When I go to bed, I still see my pets and I see terror. I remember things that happened to me and I cant hide or run from it.
The system has taken me since I was 10 years old and I haven’t escaped into freedom since. I am now 15 and this is my home.
I am in a hospital because no one else wants me!
No one can know or understand the pain Im enduring. It is overwhelming.
I have the system who hates me because a male worker that was incredibly popular was convicted for trying to rape me when I was 13. A nurse saved me before any damage happened and she was the one who testified on my behalf. So I have all the workers trying to torment me into my ultimate end. They mock, pull my hair and call me names. They stare at me and tell me things that a child shouldn’t hear.
On top of that, I am abandoned by my family and friends. My social workers has kept me here as well and no one seems to care I am here 24/7. So I have abandonment issues and anger about that. Anger because they live out their life and have willingly left me here to live out mine in isolation.
Then, I am tormented by my childhood that was the straw that broke the camels back for me. When my eyes close, I see and remember it like it is real. I guess they called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I go to bed with these feelings and it kills my heart in the most unbelievable manner.
Yet, tomorrow always comes and I am yet to live it all out again, over and over!
I look at JANET and wonder if she understands me and how I feel.
"Can I visit my grandmother?" I asked her with some little hope.
I make the time slow in my mind so I don’t get to hear the words, ‘No.’ That sometimes, just seconds of hope are just enough to make me live out the rest of my day.
She shook her head.
I sigh.
I am not allowed to watch tv or read magazines because it will give me ideas. The real world to me is an imagination. A fantasy of happiness and where all my troubles will magically disappear.
The next morning, I was told to pack my things and get ready to move into my new apartment and my new staff are waiting for me up stairs.
These new staff members stayed with me on unit 3 for a month before moving me up stairs. I had to get to know them all before the move and they had to get to know me.
I cant say I hate anyone of them but I wasn’t fond of JANET.
so as days go into th next, each day falls into this dreamy idea of what was yesterday. Nothing seems to make a difference. Each day is just another. That’s the way it was.
My existence remains the same.
Im considered a nonsense.
Perhaps one could think that I have taken the system under my control. Or I have manipulated everyone into my grips of insanity.
Really?
Well, I haven’t.
This cant stop the nation from judging me, characterizing me and crucifying me on their panel for the guilty.
I am merely here on the 5th floor because the system wants to remove me from sight and alienate me from all patients.
It is true! They have build an apartment above the hospital for me to live in with my workers who were specially hired to take care of me. There will be 3 shifts and a male and female on each shift to watch me.
Insanity right?
Well, I was approached by a new case worker just yesterday to pick out the color that I would like to have in my apartment.
I picked a rusty rose and some flowery wall paper border for my room.
"Agnes, would you like to see the finished version of what our plan was for you?" JANET asked.
I could barely smile and I looked up at her.
I dropped my painting that I was attempting to make for my grandmother. I was painting on a vase. I was hoping it could decorate my grandmothers house. I was trying to make things that would enrich her home and make her happy.
JANET looked at me and said, "Smile for me!"
As if that was really important to her.
I looked her over and couldn’t help but notice she had a square shaped face and high forehead. Her bangs were cut as if Frankenstein was the new fashion.
I am a 15 year old girl who recognized that I haven’t led a normal life and I have already missed my opportunity to graduate from school and have a prom date.
Nevertheless, who would want a virgin date with 600 slashes covering their arms and who has never danced before.
I walk next to JANET who keeps looking down at me with these weird smiles. I cant distinguish whether they are fake or sincere. So I agreed with myself to take them and accept as gifts from a mentally ill person.
Only because I couldn’t read JANET. So to me, she was mentally ill.
Yet, how can the system hire a mentally ill case worker who would be leading staff to take care of me, right?
Right!
Sometimes it is just fun to place people in a tiny jar and display them for what I thought they were. But once I labeled the jar, it is hard for me to remove them from it. Yet, placing them in this jar, made them safe and separated them from me. It also allowed me to remove them as human beings.
She opened this new door and I walked in.
It is a huge hallway.
Straight ahead is another door but it has a screen on it.
A table sits on the floor to the left with a mini fridge and shelves.
To the right is a big bedroom.
The bed is nailed down to the floor and the book shelf is nailed to the wall. There is one window but it is too high to look out of.
When I walked out back into the hall way there was a tv room.
I had my grandmothers tv on the floor and chair and couch set with side tables and a coffee table.
In the back is the wash room.
I look around and feel my grandmother very close. I feel her because I have her tv. I miss her so much. I want so bad to see her and love her again. I wish I could take care of her and clean her house. I would love to cook for her and feed her.
I always loved watching her eat.
Yet, my reality is here. This rusty rose color is sickening. It is almost irritating.
I wonder how long it will take before I screw this up and ruin everything.
I am still afflicted with these strange disorders and illnesses. I have not been healed and no one is able to help me.
When I go to bed, I still see my pets and I see terror. I remember things that happened to me and I cant hide or run from it.
The system has taken me since I was 10 years old and I haven’t escaped into freedom since. I am now 15 and this is my home.
I am in a hospital because no one else wants me!
No one can know or understand the pain Im enduring. It is overwhelming.
I have the system who hates me because a male worker that was incredibly popular was convicted for trying to rape me when I was 13. A nurse saved me before any damage happened and she was the one who testified on my behalf. So I have all the workers trying to torment me into my ultimate end. They mock, pull my hair and call me names. They stare at me and tell me things that a child shouldn’t hear.
On top of that, I am abandoned by my family and friends. My social workers has kept me here as well and no one seems to care I am here 24/7. So I have abandonment issues and anger about that. Anger because they live out their life and have willingly left me here to live out mine in isolation.
Then, I am tormented by my childhood that was the straw that broke the camels back for me. When my eyes close, I see and remember it like it is real. I guess they called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I go to bed with these feelings and it kills my heart in the most unbelievable manner.
Yet, tomorrow always comes and I am yet to live it all out again, over and over!
I look at JANET and wonder if she understands me and how I feel.
"Can I visit my grandmother?" I asked her with some little hope.
I make the time slow in my mind so I don’t get to hear the words, ‘No.’ That sometimes, just seconds of hope are just enough to make me live out the rest of my day.
She shook her head.
I sigh.
I am not allowed to watch tv or read magazines because it will give me ideas. The real world to me is an imagination. A fantasy of happiness and where all my troubles will magically disappear.
The next morning, I was told to pack my things and get ready to move into my new apartment and my new staff are waiting for me up stairs.
These new staff members stayed with me on unit 3 for a month before moving me up stairs. I had to get to know them all before the move and they had to get to know me.
I cant say I hate anyone of them but I wasn’t fond of JANET.
so as days go into th next, each day falls into this dreamy idea of what was yesterday. Nothing seems to make a difference. Each day is just another. That’s the way it was.
My existence remains the same.
Im considered a nonsense.
About a girl
I think about this girl I once dated in my past. I must have been 18 and she was 35. She had long blond hair and tats all over her body. She was quite hard core.
Her real name is Lori. I dated her for 2 years.
Our relationship was strong but she was into drugs. Things like needles and smoking coke. She was in for violence as well.
The unit we were on housed a lot of women. Many in for dangerous things. Jealousy was a factor in everyday life there. Hooking up was the only choice.
I once seen this girl (Ms.D), who was pretty, also covered in tats and rough around the edges. I think she assaulted a man but was suicidal. She lived on the opposite wing as me but we had full access to their wings as they to us.
Ms.D was in the shower when 3 girls went into her stall with her and sliced her face and breasts with a razor blade. She lived but left our unit. Lori always told me to not be apart of anyone’s garbage.
I wanted to save her but Lori tore into me about it. She even slapped me.
When word got out that her attackers will be charged.....(Ms.B), went into her room and hung herself.
She died.
She was loved by any people and even had a pretty daughter.
Lori was her friend and she didnt even cried. Lori was cold.
After 2 years, I was about to be transferred and so I broke up with her and 1 year later she died.
I don’t know how.....
Losing Lori was hard.
I never handle death well.
Before I left there, my grandmother who brought me up fell and got sick.
I took a flight to see her in the hospital and she died during my flight. I never handled my grandmothers death either.
I collasped when I seen her in the coffin.
I called my grandmother, MOM.
So Losing my ‘Mom’ was the worst thing. She was my rock.
Lori is a just this spooky thing that I went through and the mystery of her still stands...
When I was a little girl, my sister got sick and suddenly couldn’t walk. She died when I was 6. She had leukemia. 3 months later my granddad died. These deaths killed me.
Since I live with my granddad, I was closer to him then I was my sister.
Her real name is Lori. I dated her for 2 years.
Our relationship was strong but she was into drugs. Things like needles and smoking coke. She was in for violence as well.
The unit we were on housed a lot of women. Many in for dangerous things. Jealousy was a factor in everyday life there. Hooking up was the only choice.
I once seen this girl (Ms.D), who was pretty, also covered in tats and rough around the edges. I think she assaulted a man but was suicidal. She lived on the opposite wing as me but we had full access to their wings as they to us.
Ms.D was in the shower when 3 girls went into her stall with her and sliced her face and breasts with a razor blade. She lived but left our unit. Lori always told me to not be apart of anyone’s garbage.
I wanted to save her but Lori tore into me about it. She even slapped me.
When word got out that her attackers will be charged.....(Ms.B), went into her room and hung herself.
She died.
She was loved by any people and even had a pretty daughter.
Lori was her friend and she didnt even cried. Lori was cold.
After 2 years, I was about to be transferred and so I broke up with her and 1 year later she died.
I don’t know how.....
Losing Lori was hard.
I never handle death well.
Before I left there, my grandmother who brought me up fell and got sick.
I took a flight to see her in the hospital and she died during my flight. I never handled my grandmothers death either.
I collasped when I seen her in the coffin.
I called my grandmother, MOM.
So Losing my ‘Mom’ was the worst thing. She was my rock.
Lori is a just this spooky thing that I went through and the mystery of her still stands...
When I was a little girl, my sister got sick and suddenly couldn’t walk. She died when I was 6. She had leukemia. 3 months later my granddad died. These deaths killed me.
Since I live with my granddad, I was closer to him then I was my sister.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUbNYBe3Vas
If you blast this loud-to the point you cant even think-it is the best song to make love to!
If you blast this loud-to the point you cant even think-it is the best song to make love to!
Saturday
Yesterday Eric was tiling the bathroom all day. I had my baby girl which is always a joy but at night when she is sleeping I feel like waking her up just so I can hold her and cuddle with her. She loves to cuddle in the lazy boy.
so I didnt go for that drive or leave the house but I did stay up listening to music for abit. I am not a drinker. Matteroffact I have never drank in my life ontil 6 months ago maybe. I had a period where I started to drink every other night. but for the last month now, I stopped. It has turned into a habbit of taking a glass or two a night when I never had the desire.
Here is a copy of the book to be published soon.....here is one page of it so far. I am left with editting it or checking it so i work on it....this book is currently at 370pages and almost done.
___________________________________________________
Unit 9
Sometimes in th middle of this mess, I see the real me. Maybe it’s the idea of who I can be! Maybe it is the hope of what I can be! Who knows! All I know is that I want out and maybe this dream can be a reality someday.
I guess my greatest fear is being free and harboring this terrible pain and loneliness with me. It is really hard to predict this future in my life that will come sooner then later. I don’t know if I can live in the real world with the feelings I hold secret inside of me and survive at the same time. I don’t know if the two things in my life can mesh!
My pain and life!
I guess, if I knew that no matter where I went, this pain will follow: I would choice confinement.
Confinement and immense suffering mash like potatoes and carrots. Just so very perfect!
I have a window view and no interest to look out of it.
I have been on this unit for awhile and there doesn’t seem to be an end to this transfer.
They keep on sending me from one location to another. Well, I am happy that I will be moving on again. This unit doesn’t want me and to be honest it is not home to me. I don’t feel at home and I don’t feel comfortable.
None of the nurses on the unit want to talk to me and I am stuck with these male workers who just sit by the door. They stare down the hall rather then at me. They don’t seem to want to work. They just seem to want to watch television.
I am home in different sense. I am located back on my old stomping grounds. Family is close even though they never visit. At least they can all rest assure that I am here.
I fail to notice the obvious. I am merely 16 and I am locked inside a hospital. I have not learned to drive, been to my prom, had my first date and never been happy.
For some reason none of this is relevant to me. For some reason none of this cries abnormal to me. All my life, I knew I wasn’t going to live out my life on the rez. I even knew I wasn’t going to live in society. Something in me lead me to the system. To the comfort of the confinement and solitary.
"Agnes, did you eat your supper?" call out the male worker.
I looked down at my cold supper that was a mix between meat loaf and burnt bread.
I ran my fork through my potatoes and felt all kinds of hard bumps in it.
I pushed my plate away and said, "No, it is gross!"
"If you don’t eat half your meal you will lose your privileges!"
I sighed.
I eat half my meal in a hurry with 2 big bites.
"THERE!" I yell out.
He looks at me and doesn’t smile. He seems mad at me for being sassy. So I smile with a mouth full of food at him and chew my food.
Even though I am considered dangerous to myself and everyone around me, hence the 24/7 constant care worker with me, I always remember I am still a kid!
________________________________________________________
This is a picture of my brother, my dad and of me. I was abused at a young age-so much so that I feel like I was born abused. if that makes any sense. I guess I say that because I have always remembered that way of life...
Our dad didnt care for us. He left us with our Grandmother and schizoprenic Uncle who wasnt on medicine and who always beat my brother and I up everyday.
and YES, those are two healing 'black eyes' around my two eyes. The brusie was huge and took 2 week to heal.
so I didnt go for that drive or leave the house but I did stay up listening to music for abit. I am not a drinker. Matteroffact I have never drank in my life ontil 6 months ago maybe. I had a period where I started to drink every other night. but for the last month now, I stopped. It has turned into a habbit of taking a glass or two a night when I never had the desire.
Here is a copy of the book to be published soon.....here is one page of it so far. I am left with editting it or checking it so i work on it....this book is currently at 370pages and almost done.
___________________________________________________
Unit 9
Sometimes in th middle of this mess, I see the real me. Maybe it’s the idea of who I can be! Maybe it is the hope of what I can be! Who knows! All I know is that I want out and maybe this dream can be a reality someday.
I guess my greatest fear is being free and harboring this terrible pain and loneliness with me. It is really hard to predict this future in my life that will come sooner then later. I don’t know if I can live in the real world with the feelings I hold secret inside of me and survive at the same time. I don’t know if the two things in my life can mesh!
My pain and life!
I guess, if I knew that no matter where I went, this pain will follow: I would choice confinement.
Confinement and immense suffering mash like potatoes and carrots. Just so very perfect!
I have a window view and no interest to look out of it.
I have been on this unit for awhile and there doesn’t seem to be an end to this transfer.
They keep on sending me from one location to another. Well, I am happy that I will be moving on again. This unit doesn’t want me and to be honest it is not home to me. I don’t feel at home and I don’t feel comfortable.
None of the nurses on the unit want to talk to me and I am stuck with these male workers who just sit by the door. They stare down the hall rather then at me. They don’t seem to want to work. They just seem to want to watch television.
I am home in different sense. I am located back on my old stomping grounds. Family is close even though they never visit. At least they can all rest assure that I am here.
I fail to notice the obvious. I am merely 16 and I am locked inside a hospital. I have not learned to drive, been to my prom, had my first date and never been happy.
For some reason none of this is relevant to me. For some reason none of this cries abnormal to me. All my life, I knew I wasn’t going to live out my life on the rez. I even knew I wasn’t going to live in society. Something in me lead me to the system. To the comfort of the confinement and solitary.
"Agnes, did you eat your supper?" call out the male worker.
I looked down at my cold supper that was a mix between meat loaf and burnt bread.
I ran my fork through my potatoes and felt all kinds of hard bumps in it.
I pushed my plate away and said, "No, it is gross!"
"If you don’t eat half your meal you will lose your privileges!"
I sighed.
I eat half my meal in a hurry with 2 big bites.
"THERE!" I yell out.
He looks at me and doesn’t smile. He seems mad at me for being sassy. So I smile with a mouth full of food at him and chew my food.
Even though I am considered dangerous to myself and everyone around me, hence the 24/7 constant care worker with me, I always remember I am still a kid!
________________________________________________________
This is a picture of my brother, my dad and of me. I was abused at a young age-so much so that I feel like I was born abused. if that makes any sense. I guess I say that because I have always remembered that way of life...
Our dad didnt care for us. He left us with our Grandmother and schizoprenic Uncle who wasnt on medicine and who always beat my brother and I up everyday.
and YES, those are two healing 'black eyes' around my two eyes. The brusie was huge and took 2 week to heal.
Friday, 19 August 2011
I AM BJ-one of Agnes's personalities.
Meet me Halfway-Black eyed peas
I will text you and I will call you.
where are you and are you thinking of me?
I am home and he is sleeping. Want to meet?
I want to run away and I want to disappear.
I want to get lost in the night.
I want to scream at the darkness and
dance infront the lights of my car.
I want to be held by another man other then
my husband. I want to be able to say I have been
held two times in my life by two different men.
I am new to this world and only been touched by one man.
Im a flower but far from blooming.
I am Shawna one my Agnes's personalities
(Eminem-love the way you lie)
This is the video I took of Sophie and I. This is my voice which is completely different then Agnes. Its called "Feed your sheep!" The top video isnt ME. Just a cute video i found.
We once knew this girl who lived with us for 7 years and she treated us like shit. She was so mean to us and use to fight us. She would scream at us all and tell us to kill our selves or go back to the hospital. she said alot of hurtful things.
I am sad that Agnes has her in our lives behind our mans back. Our man doesnt want her in our lives because she is evil. She hates our man and even threatened to hurt him. And yet, she is still in our life because she told our man she was sorry and didnt mean it. We think Agnes suffers with this abuse thing that she put her through. she needs to let her go and maybe she needs help from a professional on this issue.
This girl that lived with us hated men who looked or payed attentioned to Agnes and that is why she left us.
Meet me Halfway-Black eyed peas
I will text you and I will call you.
where are you and are you thinking of me?
I am home and he is sleeping. Want to meet?
I want to run away and I want to disappear.
I want to get lost in the night.
I want to scream at the darkness and
dance infront the lights of my car.
I want to be held by another man other then
my husband. I want to be able to say I have been
held two times in my life by two different men.
I am new to this world and only been touched by one man.
Im a flower but far from blooming.
I am Shawna one my Agnes's personalities
(Eminem-love the way you lie)
We once knew this girl who lived with us for 7 years and she treated us like shit. She was so mean to us and use to fight us. She would scream at us all and tell us to kill our selves or go back to the hospital. she said alot of hurtful things.
I am sad that Agnes has her in our lives behind our mans back. Our man doesnt want her in our lives because she is evil. She hates our man and even threatened to hurt him. And yet, she is still in our life because she told our man she was sorry and didnt mean it. We think Agnes suffers with this abuse thing that she put her through. she needs to let her go and maybe she needs help from a professional on this issue.
This girl that lived with us hated men who looked or payed attentioned to Agnes and that is why she left us.
I am sad
Return to Innocence-Enigma
I am listening to this song right now as I type in my laptop. Trying to find reason and purpose to life. I am sad tonight. This saddness sits in my tummy like a brick.
It is night outside and its exactly 10pm. The cool breeze is blowing in my living room and it takes me back to places I have long forgotten.
Yes, I was in a hospital for 14 years. It was a long time to be away from life.
I never did the important things a young girl would have.
right now, I am feeling a place I was in for 3 years. I use to listen to Enigma there alot. I would sit in my cell and blast the cd. It always took me away. But right now, it just takes me back.
I also think about my home life where I grew up and I miss my grandmother so much.
When I was 10 years old, my mother tried to kill me for the last time and I defended myself. I fought back. She pounded me on the rocking chair and 2 men watched like it was something to do rather then saving me from her.
I had to take matters in my own hands. I fought back.
when the cops came, she told them I tried to kill her. I was arrested and placed in a hospital for aggressive kids. That is HOW and WHY it all happened. I couldnt get out because no one wanted me. Not even my father n my stepmom. My grandmother was too old to take me.
I am so fucking sad right now-no one will ever know. I am suffering in silence and no one knows. I smile and laugh and all I feel is darkness.
This is life.
My husband is watching tv and all I want to do is jump in the car and drive to the graveyard across from Sears at the mall and park there with the dead. I want to cry but there are no tears right now.
My daughter is the only person that makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. When she smiles at me I feel like she is reminding me that I must stay on earth for as long as she is here.
My husband says I am only happy for a couple of minutes throughout the day. that cant be good! Yet when I am with my girl, I am happy that whole time.
I am listening to this song right now as I type in my laptop. Trying to find reason and purpose to life. I am sad tonight. This saddness sits in my tummy like a brick.
It is night outside and its exactly 10pm. The cool breeze is blowing in my living room and it takes me back to places I have long forgotten.
Yes, I was in a hospital for 14 years. It was a long time to be away from life.
I never did the important things a young girl would have.
right now, I am feeling a place I was in for 3 years. I use to listen to Enigma there alot. I would sit in my cell and blast the cd. It always took me away. But right now, it just takes me back.
I also think about my home life where I grew up and I miss my grandmother so much.
When I was 10 years old, my mother tried to kill me for the last time and I defended myself. I fought back. She pounded me on the rocking chair and 2 men watched like it was something to do rather then saving me from her.
I had to take matters in my own hands. I fought back.
when the cops came, she told them I tried to kill her. I was arrested and placed in a hospital for aggressive kids. That is HOW and WHY it all happened. I couldnt get out because no one wanted me. Not even my father n my stepmom. My grandmother was too old to take me.
I am so fucking sad right now-no one will ever know. I am suffering in silence and no one knows. I smile and laugh and all I feel is darkness.
This is life.
My husband is watching tv and all I want to do is jump in the car and drive to the graveyard across from Sears at the mall and park there with the dead. I want to cry but there are no tears right now.
My daughter is the only person that makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. When she smiles at me I feel like she is reminding me that I must stay on earth for as long as she is here.
My husband says I am only happy for a couple of minutes throughout the day. that cant be good! Yet when I am with my girl, I am happy that whole time.
after a dream
I woke up today to a dream. I have nightmares everynight but sometimes a dream gets in one of nights. A very nice silent breathe of fresh air.
It was about this woman I knew. I had a fling with her I guess. Her real name is Donna. She was 10 years older then me at the time. She was butchy I guess.
In this dream we were laying around on this couch. She looked over to me and said, "I wonder how you and your ex Meg, would be if you both got back together."
"Only because you both have changed so much!" She added.
I woke up and thought about what she said....
If Meg and I got back together....
So I done something about it. I texted my ex about the dream and asked what she thought.
she said, "sign...teary"
She then texted, "Of course I think about it all the time."
Him or Her---
The passion for life is of little degrees, packed in crates of junk,
Chained inside the reality of everything in the ocean -that sunk.
We talk little of what is true and what seems to matter, as love has it,
I feel the pain and the pinching feeling from deep in my dark pit.
A song plays in the background and music isn't heard,
Tears of memories only exist- sounds of nature has only occurred.
Endless and unforgiving I call the number of someone far,
I plan to travel into the past and I plan to travel in my car.
Beached, drained and gutted, I hang upside down to the world,
I wear lipstick and dress nice with my hair all fancy and curled.
A place only from the past can have me so girly for all to see,
Yes, it is Mamie- the one you captured, who is now free.
You threw me over the edge and never once guided my fall,
You nipped and tug at my feelings even when I would call.
You tore my heart into little pieces and made me pick them up alone,
You made me beg for your love even when my flesh turned into bone.
Alcohol had been your source of pleasure while I watched and waited,
I learned to expect the worst from you and for everything- I hate it.
So we are at 3 beers now but what about the 6th beer on the way,
By the 8th beer, you'll be cursing me out and telling me to not stay.
When the name-calling is done, why don't you console your crying fem?
Throw punches, throw furniture and hit me like I am an object as them.
Cry and curse me to have cancer and wish me to hang myself at night,
Look at me with hate and crush me under your sight.
What did I lack in your life, I don’t smoke, do drugs or drink beer,
I took care of you and loved you but you still couldn't stand me near.
I would have done everything for you and stayed by your side,
Even after you cheated, got sneaky and after you lied.
The two very things that took my life and snared me into a trap,
Enormous little things that hold me tight onto their boneless lap.
Immeasurable to the naked eye, you need to see me under a microscope,
Pray for me to see the end and to escape with some clothes and little hope.
Dream and pretend it is over and wish someday God would finally arrive,
I will then scream to the Lord, "why is it, I come this far to survive?"
The memories alone are of little comfort into my past of many things,
I wait and welcome whatever life has to give and whatever it brings.
A visionary of sort, I dabble with my oppressive nature to living,
In hopes one day, I will be wrong and somehow God can be forgiving.
My willingness to see eye to eye, I witness a person blocking my sight,
The awkwardness to shift gears was like driving straight into blinding light.
From the bottom of the dark pit, I am seen feeble to the arms of a giant,
I crumble and shake under its shade, and start to become defiant.
But nothing can prepare me for what I was about to endure,
Something that is life shattering and life threatening, I am sure.
Worthless and distressed, I lay weeping into the hands of this man,
Something not apart of life’s design and something not apart of my plan.
Weak and disabled, I fall into the arms of him and give him my body and soul,
I watched him bit by bit, shovel back the dirt into my once 6 feet hole.
Now only a heap of mud is left and falling into its pit is now wavering,
For he fills my every need to a mouth-watering desert that’s worth savoring.
Lifted from the ground, I live inside the clouds of his castle far away,
Blessed to have him, I thank God for letting me see on that very day.
Smoothly he handles my memories of the past and carries my sorrow,
Just by insuring me a better day into the future by taking me into tomorrow.
Written by Me
So, my ex Meg has 11 peacebonds against her. I know she has anger issues and I know she gets jealous if a man pays attention to me.....but has she really changed? After 7 years of relationship with her and taking her crap----5 years apart.....has she changed...
It was about this woman I knew. I had a fling with her I guess. Her real name is Donna. She was 10 years older then me at the time. She was butchy I guess.
In this dream we were laying around on this couch. She looked over to me and said, "I wonder how you and your ex Meg, would be if you both got back together."
"Only because you both have changed so much!" She added.
I woke up and thought about what she said....
If Meg and I got back together....
So I done something about it. I texted my ex about the dream and asked what she thought.
she said, "sign...teary"
She then texted, "Of course I think about it all the time."
Him or Her---
The passion for life is of little degrees, packed in crates of junk,
Chained inside the reality of everything in the ocean -that sunk.
We talk little of what is true and what seems to matter, as love has it,
I feel the pain and the pinching feeling from deep in my dark pit.
A song plays in the background and music isn't heard,
Tears of memories only exist- sounds of nature has only occurred.
Endless and unforgiving I call the number of someone far,
I plan to travel into the past and I plan to travel in my car.
Beached, drained and gutted, I hang upside down to the world,
I wear lipstick and dress nice with my hair all fancy and curled.
A place only from the past can have me so girly for all to see,
Yes, it is Mamie- the one you captured, who is now free.
You threw me over the edge and never once guided my fall,
You nipped and tug at my feelings even when I would call.
You tore my heart into little pieces and made me pick them up alone,
You made me beg for your love even when my flesh turned into bone.
Alcohol had been your source of pleasure while I watched and waited,
I learned to expect the worst from you and for everything- I hate it.
So we are at 3 beers now but what about the 6th beer on the way,
By the 8th beer, you'll be cursing me out and telling me to not stay.
When the name-calling is done, why don't you console your crying fem?
Throw punches, throw furniture and hit me like I am an object as them.
Cry and curse me to have cancer and wish me to hang myself at night,
Look at me with hate and crush me under your sight.
What did I lack in your life, I don’t smoke, do drugs or drink beer,
I took care of you and loved you but you still couldn't stand me near.
I would have done everything for you and stayed by your side,
Even after you cheated, got sneaky and after you lied.
The two very things that took my life and snared me into a trap,
Enormous little things that hold me tight onto their boneless lap.
Immeasurable to the naked eye, you need to see me under a microscope,
Pray for me to see the end and to escape with some clothes and little hope.
Dream and pretend it is over and wish someday God would finally arrive,
I will then scream to the Lord, "why is it, I come this far to survive?"
The memories alone are of little comfort into my past of many things,
I wait and welcome whatever life has to give and whatever it brings.
A visionary of sort, I dabble with my oppressive nature to living,
In hopes one day, I will be wrong and somehow God can be forgiving.
My willingness to see eye to eye, I witness a person blocking my sight,
The awkwardness to shift gears was like driving straight into blinding light.
From the bottom of the dark pit, I am seen feeble to the arms of a giant,
I crumble and shake under its shade, and start to become defiant.
But nothing can prepare me for what I was about to endure,
Something that is life shattering and life threatening, I am sure.
Worthless and distressed, I lay weeping into the hands of this man,
Something not apart of life’s design and something not apart of my plan.
Weak and disabled, I fall into the arms of him and give him my body and soul,
I watched him bit by bit, shovel back the dirt into my once 6 feet hole.
Now only a heap of mud is left and falling into its pit is now wavering,
For he fills my every need to a mouth-watering desert that’s worth savoring.
Lifted from the ground, I live inside the clouds of his castle far away,
Blessed to have him, I thank God for letting me see on that very day.
Smoothly he handles my memories of the past and carries my sorrow,
Just by insuring me a better day into the future by taking me into tomorrow.
Written by Me
So, my ex Meg has 11 peacebonds against her. I know she has anger issues and I know she gets jealous if a man pays attention to me.....but has she really changed? After 7 years of relationship with her and taking her crap----5 years apart.....has she changed...
future
There is one book that is finished about my life and one that is on its way to completion. Soon, the idea of publication will be in the air and I will have to perpare myself for that chapter in my life. I also have over 600 poems and organizing them will be a hard thing. They will be in books as well. I believe 20 poem books!
The crazy thing about my life story, I'm not writing. My other personality is writing it because she is smarter and knows about THEM then me. To THEM, means she knows all their crazy stories and it will also place them in the holes of my life.
Her name is STORMY. She use to be a lesbian ontil she meant Eric.
I also have a producer in mind and he has a copy of one of my books. My story will be a big screen movie one day.
How does my husband feel about my MPD you ask? He loves them. Sometimes I wonder if he loves them more then me but I am not jealous. I promise.
TheCaves
Collapsing within my reality of denial and regret,
Dreaming while I sleep, not allowed to forget.
I have been addicted to you and your smile,
I call you and ask you to stay for awhile.
Hidden within the pain of memories inside,
watching videos of us and saying you cried.
Somewhere far is a lake in a secret place,
A place where I faced fears infront of my face.
Where a cave lurks, waiting to be ventured deep,
It is there- where I can hear you weep.
Cry no more and know I am here by your side,
live, love and laugh- come and confide.
I am sad about everything that went wrong,
I listen to your words and play our breakup song.
I am sorry for not being the better person right now,
But it is only because I don't know how.
You know I've changed and that fighting isn't there,
So seek out my truth and know that I care.
written by Me
The crazy thing about my life story, I'm not writing. My other personality is writing it because she is smarter and knows about THEM then me. To THEM, means she knows all their crazy stories and it will also place them in the holes of my life.
Her name is STORMY. She use to be a lesbian ontil she meant Eric.
I also have a producer in mind and he has a copy of one of my books. My story will be a big screen movie one day.
How does my husband feel about my MPD you ask? He loves them. Sometimes I wonder if he loves them more then me but I am not jealous. I promise.
TheCaves
Collapsing within my reality of denial and regret,
Dreaming while I sleep, not allowed to forget.
I have been addicted to you and your smile,
I call you and ask you to stay for awhile.
Hidden within the pain of memories inside,
watching videos of us and saying you cried.
Somewhere far is a lake in a secret place,
A place where I faced fears infront of my face.
Where a cave lurks, waiting to be ventured deep,
It is there- where I can hear you weep.
Cry no more and know I am here by your side,
live, love and laugh- come and confide.
I am sad about everything that went wrong,
I listen to your words and play our breakup song.
I am sorry for not being the better person right now,
But it is only because I don't know how.
You know I've changed and that fighting isn't there,
So seek out my truth and know that I care.
written by Me
Thursday, 18 August 2011
When I was little
Alot of my memories are painful. Most I try to forget.
My grandmother is my rock. I love her with all my heart. When she died-I did too.
Because of my MPD, I have forgotten alot of them or have been blessed to have not experienced it. The flip side is one of my personalities have.
I grew up in a small town with only about 50 houses in our little 'hood.'
My grandmother was a holy woman and prayed before each meal, before bed and when she awoke. When my brother and I would act up, she use to try and bless us with holy water and stain our heads with oil to make the sign of the cross.
"Your possessed by th devil!" She would scream out.
That was the only way for old folk to make sense of MPD.
My brother and I were molested by the same man. He dealt with his issues through drugs and beer. MPD dealt with my memories so I could live on a normal life.
My world as is
Crammed into this little space of existence, I am of little hope,
I ask the world to take me away, mess me up with lies and dope.
They said there is something wrong with me and I wonder why,
Could it be my life of which I lived in secret- as a lie.
I ask myself many questions and never want to know,
Agnes, when you 10 years old, where did you go?
Were you on the run your whole life from Family and friends?
Did you not seek shelter or even asked for amends.
Why do you wear long sleeves every single day?
Could it be the nasty slashes your hiding away.
Do people see that your soul is old with torture and pain,
That living a normal life will never happen again.
Written by Me
Because of my MPD, I have forgotten alot of them or have been blessed to have not experienced it. The flip side is one of my personalities have.
I grew up in a small town with only about 50 houses in our little 'hood.'
My grandmother was a holy woman and prayed before each meal, before bed and when she awoke. When my brother and I would act up, she use to try and bless us with holy water and stain our heads with oil to make the sign of the cross.
"Your possessed by th devil!" She would scream out.
That was the only way for old folk to make sense of MPD.
My brother and I were molested by the same man. He dealt with his issues through drugs and beer. MPD dealt with my memories so I could live on a normal life.
My world as is
Crammed into this little space of existence, I am of little hope,
I ask the world to take me away, mess me up with lies and dope.
They said there is something wrong with me and I wonder why,
Could it be my life of which I lived in secret- as a lie.
I ask myself many questions and never want to know,
Agnes, when you 10 years old, where did you go?
Were you on the run your whole life from Family and friends?
Did you not seek shelter or even asked for amends.
Why do you wear long sleeves every single day?
Could it be the nasty slashes your hiding away.
Do people see that your soul is old with torture and pain,
That living a normal life will never happen again.
Written by Me
One of those days
Today is the start of something new. I am going to write about me and my life in hopes that I can self heal.
First, I want to admit that I suffer with MPD and PTSD. I have these problems all my life. I cant seem to heal and thats just the way it will work. This is something that I havent worked on in years.
I was also hospitalized for 14 years straight and I wasnt allowed out. These just some secrets about me...wonder how many people will hate me now.
My mother tried to kill me 3 times during my childhood. When she couldnt kill me, she set a man on fire and killed him over me. This is just something about me...
I am married to a man who I will call ERIC and I will name my daughter SOPHIE. I have a dog who I will call GAMEZO. I also have an ex who I will call MEG.
I was a lesbian all my life ontil I meet this man, Eric. He kind of changed everything for me.
Is this what you wanted
Take it from a kiss, take it from the bill board on Stadium Hill,
Calm down the pain and accept love over a damn pill.
Somewhere far and somewhere near lurks the soul,
Came to your side one night without you in the know.
Tip toed to hear your heart beat and just a single sound,
Yet woe on to thee, from within your space, there was none found.
Blessed is thee, for a prayer was asked to save your life,
It was from a person who loved you and who was your wife.
Cry not another tear and ask only what your heart desires,
Stand tall before God and stomp out the hellish fires.
Pray silently in your mind and in your every step,
Know that someone has your back and had always kept.
Never, is a word only said when the end is near at hand,
Forever, is a word only said when none us really understand.
Sometimes it is too late to forgive and forget and time is ticking,
When days go on and people are few and slim picking.
Even though the pain was harsh and it seems it wont go away,
Maybe that is it- the pain is too great and forgiving is not today.
Sometimes people dig a little deeper unknowing the worst,
That being good is hard for them and now their life is cursed!
Lying appears to be the only friend and when it is over by night,
Who is left to see them alone when no one is at their sight.
No one cares about a gigolo and no one cares about a fool,
They are only taken advanaged of and used as crafty tool.
It maybe to late to make amends and matter of fact, it is,
See my foot prints walking away from the memory of this.
Say good-bye to any attempt to fix anything but the truth,
No letters or emails and messed up phone calls at the booth.
When your alone, remember who it is you left behind,
Because I will never be there for you to ever have or find.
Written by Me
First, I want to admit that I suffer with MPD and PTSD. I have these problems all my life. I cant seem to heal and thats just the way it will work. This is something that I havent worked on in years.
I was also hospitalized for 14 years straight and I wasnt allowed out. These just some secrets about me...wonder how many people will hate me now.
My mother tried to kill me 3 times during my childhood. When she couldnt kill me, she set a man on fire and killed him over me. This is just something about me...
I am married to a man who I will call ERIC and I will name my daughter SOPHIE. I have a dog who I will call GAMEZO. I also have an ex who I will call MEG.
I was a lesbian all my life ontil I meet this man, Eric. He kind of changed everything for me.
Is this what you wanted
Take it from a kiss, take it from the bill board on Stadium Hill,
Calm down the pain and accept love over a damn pill.
Somewhere far and somewhere near lurks the soul,
Came to your side one night without you in the know.
Tip toed to hear your heart beat and just a single sound,
Yet woe on to thee, from within your space, there was none found.
Blessed is thee, for a prayer was asked to save your life,
It was from a person who loved you and who was your wife.
Cry not another tear and ask only what your heart desires,
Stand tall before God and stomp out the hellish fires.
Pray silently in your mind and in your every step,
Know that someone has your back and had always kept.
Never, is a word only said when the end is near at hand,
Forever, is a word only said when none us really understand.
Sometimes it is too late to forgive and forget and time is ticking,
When days go on and people are few and slim picking.
Even though the pain was harsh and it seems it wont go away,
Maybe that is it- the pain is too great and forgiving is not today.
Sometimes people dig a little deeper unknowing the worst,
That being good is hard for them and now their life is cursed!
Lying appears to be the only friend and when it is over by night,
Who is left to see them alone when no one is at their sight.
No one cares about a gigolo and no one cares about a fool,
They are only taken advanaged of and used as crafty tool.
It maybe to late to make amends and matter of fact, it is,
See my foot prints walking away from the memory of this.
Say good-bye to any attempt to fix anything but the truth,
No letters or emails and messed up phone calls at the booth.
When your alone, remember who it is you left behind,
Because I will never be there for you to ever have or find.
Written by Me
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