The Original Fake Audrey.

I was standing in the kitchen trying to escape all the other rooms which were either occupied with my mother, father, sisters, or brother. I wanted to avoid them and cooled off since my dad had just ridiculed me for no reason as I crossed his path though later he followed me in a strange satisfied mood. He had just gotten off the phone with someone who informed him that his new expensive luxurious vehicle would be in, in just a few days. My dad was obsessed with his car and had shown it off every chance he got. He thought it would get him friends, girls (though he as a wife), and generally happiness. He thinks money and classy things could attract the right people and make him adopt happiness. Though he is a miserable 50 year old sick and depressed human being that should be happy with what he has. He wants to have a 20 to 25 year old new wife that is artificial and in shape, that will do anything for him. He wants the best restaurants and treatment even at the trashy places he goes as those strip clubs and all around clubs. He wants to leave this life of a small home with four children and a wife who devotes her life to all of us. He wants to start over and be the 90 year old with every material possession a person could own and all the goldigger girls he could get until he dies of old age though my family and I believe he won’t last to be 60 if he keeps on eating fatty foods. I despise my dad for the things he believes. He as told me be a doctor or lawyer and aim for the top in careers. Though I know I would be much happier as a writer. He thinks being a doctor or lawyer would give me money and eventually happiness. He thinks money also gives a person love and fame. This was just 4 years ago on a car ride from my Aunt’s house, as he almost crashed when I said money doesn’t equal the perfect life style. His mind disgusts me. He doesn’t have any sense of sophistication that he wants in life. For that I don’t give him respect nor listen to his advice or useless words because he doesn’t deserve it, though I am his daughter and much less in age I seem to have more common sense than him. The same ignorant people everyday reminds me of my dad. This seems to be the age of ignorance and our minds are diminishing all the rational beliefs and intelligence we once knew which seems to be the stuff we’re desperate for.

Ah yes the days get longer and even more intolerable as they go on. I am without an escape but to settle in the dark for a time-consuming period just to feel awful and pathetic as a wallow and drown in my own tears and vomit. Searching for the nearest pointy object which I will then raise to my leg and slash until I feel satisfied enough to stop and turn on the light and find myself bleeding way more than I bargained for. It was not like I felt the searing pain on both my legs. I had felt much worse before I did it like I was going to break and there was nothing that could halt or hush me. Just when I stopped I felt a need to cover me up and hide my face as if I couldn’t erase the shame or embarrassment that only I knew.  Why did I feel this way if they didn’t have a clue what I did? This is who I was I person laying in her blood on the bathroom floor while weeping about all pains and persecutions she had undergone in the past few days and again the same thing, it happens oh so much. Questions in succession….what did I do? Did I deserve this? Was everything all leading to a lesson? I scampered out of there sooner or later. It was too a great deal to take in a short period of time though it was why I did it in the first place I left. Though it was midnight and realized everyone was asleep indulging themselves in rest before there tiresome hours of work. Why was I still awake taking down silent tears? I quickly stopped and covered myself with blankets since it happened to be such a cold night. Of course that night, I didn’t have the large blanket and settled as I held my leg still bleeding gradually. Though I stayed awake for another hour or two feeling like an insomniac, just wondering what exactly the world had in store for me tomorrow. I just wish it could stop and result in success for me. To not feel as if I could be this low to do it again. I never want to feel like this….but for now I look at myself as the pitiful and hopeless human being, just as everyone else does.

 When music vanishes…

The music as stopped and all I could hear is the voice my ear telling me negative things about myself and how much of a screw up I am because my music can’t save me from drowning the sounds of fighting and people pointing out my mistakes. Music gives me that escape and I also have many things to make me “escape” all unhealthy for me such as cutting but of course it doesn’t stop…because it helps and stops my mind from the crazy trance I go in and…it almost wakes me up before I do something to someone or do something worse to myself. I feel myself going crazy with people doing nothing but saying things to make it worse and just not caring. Not realizing how hurtful words could be to someone with such low self esteem as me. Everyday I feel my self esteem go lower as people keep on judging me on things I didn’t ask them to judge me on. The music was running away without the leaving. It was yes taken away from me by the demons in my house…demons refer to people who put things in your mind. Therefore my dad seems to be my demon… always giving me a huge urge to cut again… so I did in fact yesterday. My music or I-Pod was taken because I didn’t simply do something that I thought was completely unfair. He makes me do things just so I listen…not because he really wants me to do them. He just wants me to listen to him for a change when there’s no way I could give him the satisfaction that I did do so. He will then prance around happily thinking I will now do everything he tells me to do. I just wish people could understand how I feel when I give in… I feel like I’ve lost. It seems like someone just rang a bell and the battle begins between us…I feel small…I feel like I have no control over anything that happens… but when I seem to get to myself…and hurt myself in many ways. I am always generous to everyone I’m around they still seem to find a way to judge and pick at me. Sometimes I want to give up myself and find it hard. I’ve already lost now that I think about it; my emotions are ruined to all the things he has said. I’ve let his insecure self get to me. I’ve let all the pain be let out on myself and done nothing but turn on myself, being my worse enemy. Though I never show my weakness of cutting nor bulimia, it would be too scary…

Can anyone stop this feeling? The feeling of my palms always sweaty, my mind always paranoid, and my feelings and emotions always crushed…it seems I’ve become a non believer. I am the one who as lost hope, thinking I don’t have any chance. That things will only get worse. That my blood and vomit will increase until I’m the visible reason why everyone should cover there children’s eyes and shelter people to not be like me. I could only see me not only bulimic and cutting but doing drugs… it’s just a prediction since I’m going to the one of the top drug schools where I live… My pills, drinks, and fatless skin would make me feel loved and I’d be the beautiful disaster everyone loves to point out. Looking in the mirror and realizing I’m not so bad after the 3 hour argument with me is what I do now. The problems the cutting the vomiting…and I’m supposed to feel great about myself right? I’m supposed to also be one of those high school kids that hides her cocaine in her rosary and puts her money in her push up bra right? I’m going to be a bitter and useless person the way I’m going. I’m going to be the girl who looked down at her childhood where she dreamed about writing novels and being loved by millions for nothing but fictional words and fictional characters that did nothing but live. I’m going to be the girl that isolates herself and goes to bars and drinks until she pukes….I’m going to go to parties and be a rebel with nothing but an even worse future. I’m going to live in agony and have 101 regrets and know exactly what each and everyone is. I’m going to have a priceless life of sex, drugs, and problems. I’m going to end up alone with no one that really understood me….I’m going to die in my late 30’s with nothing but a bartender to realize I wasn’t there tonight….am I going to die this way? Fears or my future thats all.... Because I always feel that right now is going to affect my future.... I don't wanna be like that

To Him….Hey, here I am again my violent failure love is ready to be given. Obviously not to you who as used and abused my heart oh more violently. They become the ghosts and I’ve suddenly become the world’s biggest joke with Valentine’s Day approaching I can’t wait to see what you get her and I can’t wait to see you once again walk by me without a word spoken. Oh how I know you so well…I seem to put up a shell on myself and take the blame, swallow the shame every fucking day it’s the same. I want you still what could I say? A creep like me needs a hobby. Missing you when we never were, just wishing I could be like her. Scared of the day I won’t be there to walk in front of, not even to talk…no voice, no touch, no dream. All but hope is dead right now and I am nothing but pathetic. Don’t care that life is no fair because I’ve got that other pain in my leg, the blood was falling. It’s just stalling that emotional heartache and I thank for it everyday. But also pray that you just go away.

What the journal entry called?

“My heart is the worst kind of weapon”

HAPPY V-DAY!

Well another day, another failure that continues breathing… yes it’s me. Just today I shut my mind down and decided to do something that I enjoyed. No helping anyone else but myself. Now I have a headache though which as come to no surprise since… I’ve been helping sick, congested nose freaks, which happens to be my family. Today I got my Social Studies Quiz back and a 74… is not good. I studied and I did better than I usually do. I know it’s horrible to give accuses but… my house is the smallest thing for 6 dysfunctional people. I only get to be alone in my room (usually doing the tons and tons of homework) for about 2 hours. Maybe I go listen to music and go on buzznet too. But I’m never able to feel comfortable or when I want to just cool down from some obnoxious comment my father said to my mother about me (obviously loud enough so I could hear) I slam a door and turn my music greatly high then I look like the bad one but I do it because everything is his way and everything is done his way because he’s a king right?? Well that’s exactly what he says. To make matters worse he treats my mom like a piece of garbage. They apparently live in the 19^th century… the mom is suppose to cook and clean and never go out only to bow at the husbands feet right? It’s what they both believe. My dad could say horrific things to her and since my dad got sick just about 8 years ago… and had a stroke that traumatized her badly. She believes it’s the reason why he does all theses bad things…she is a brainwashed helpless girl who can’t even realize how bad he ruined her life. She didn’t finish college just to marry and move to US. Now he works, she can’t get a decent job if he leaves her (which he’s said he would countless times and blames me for it all) I have to sit and watch and vow to keep my mouth shut when I would be the first one to be up and heated. Everything I do is horrible wrong to him, he calls me fat when he waits about 300 pounds and as this thing where he starts excessively eating. My family tells him to stop… sometimes I just let him eat…hoping the next stroke could be tomorrow that dumbass that always makes me feel never good enough. I get angry at him since everything that he says is pointing out a flaw in me or in my mom (when she does everything for him including live for him) so of course I feel angry and I am always heated and aggravated. Thank God I’ve learned how to teach myself, how to not listen to those crazy useless words that he says, and how ignorant and sad he is.  I don’t cry for him and wonder why everyone is so mean to him though my mom does. I don’t cut him off and take his money though my 2 sisters and brother does so. All I do is avoid, yell, and roll my eyes when he talks and I’m obviously the bad person because I’m the youngest and he’s sick (8years ago) and I’m an angry crazy person right?? He doesn’t know how to live calmly. It almost makes me feel bad for him though I just can’t I still hate him. I still wish he could stop ruining my life (I will never be a bad parent because of him, I will never be like him) Sometimes you just can’t concentrate in this very small home of dysfunction (therefore do horrible in school). I don’t know what I would do without music, that boy, and cutting. Cutting releases pain and beats them to the emotional blow they give me everyday. It is something I can control, something I could do and no one can tell me I can’t. It is something that I am ashamed about. I don’t even state my name on this site because it’s painful to realize who I become over the course of a year maybe less. It’s hard to tell anyone who does know me. They have no idea whatsoever. There too busy trying to runaway from this house of mine and they keep on forgetting who there leaving behind…sometimes I don’t mind. Being alone as never felt so good…but just so lonely….

(btw the thing I enjoyed today was downloading music. It was the misfits.)