Lost
By, Lexi Scheerschmidt
Lost
Dedicated to, The ones that have stuck by my side, no matter how hard I made it.
REMEMBER THIS DATE
April 12, 2013 Keaton asked me out. I said yes.
April, 28, 2013 I got it. My first kiss from him. I will admit it was a little awkward but all first kisses are, at least for me. He came over to my house and we went down to the basement. Keaton had never seen Yes Man so I found it and popped it in the DvD player. I knew he wanted me to kiss him because he kept staring at my lips. So as soon as we sat on the couch he took my phone and hid it behind his back. I smiled and started trying to get it back. To make a short story shorter, I ended up sitting on his lap, telling him to give it to me and that I wanted it. It took me a while to figure out why he was laughing so hard… Finally he gave it back to me and I knew he was going to kiss me by the way he was looking in my eyes. I blushed and started playing with his hair because I get nervous about this stuff. Before I could realize what was happening he placed his hands behind my shoulders and pulled me down to kiss him. I realized then what a horrible kisser I am but thank god Jim Carrey was there to save the day. All we heard was him saying “oh great, they’re rubbing each other’s genitals” and the awkwardness was broken by our laughter.
I wish I would have been a better kisser though, meaning I wish it didn’t feel like I was devouring his face, but I know I’ll do better next time. Besides, he didn’t seem to mind.
Relay 4 Life “I wish I could spend the night with you,” I whispered into his ear. I wanted I stay with him, I felt hopeless, alone, and scared, of him. Keaton started to remind me of Jacob, and even other people were comparing them Keaton held me when we first got to Relay for Life. Nabeela had pulled me aside and yelled at me the second after our hug ended, telling me I was making a huge mistake. He came over and pulled me away from her, guiding my head into his shoulder as I quietly sobbed. I felt how warm he was, how safe he made me feel. I grabbed his hand and didn’t let it go. We walked around the track field at least fifty times. I felt so bad. I was so quiet, so sad, so… depressed. He was not used to being around people like me. I wanted to be better, for him. He bought brownies and let me eat them. I don’t know why but that made me love him, made me want to hold him, and never let go. He walked me to Subway, bought us some silly shades; we swung our arms back and forth as we walked hand in hand. I kissed him under the oak tree in the parking lot later that night. Rising to my toes to place my lips lightly over his,
the night surrounded us. He slid a hand around my waist. Kissing me again, and again. His lips were soft, sweet, safe. On our way back to my house he whispered quietly in my ear as his mom talked about her day. I smiled at him lovingly. He walked me to my door, stopping at least three times along the way to spin me around and interlock his lips with mine. He always wanted more. He walked me inside and held me one last time. I wanted to tell him to stay, that I wanted to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around me, then and there, not have to wait. But his mom was outside waiting for him to return. So I let him go, watching him leave.
Resisting: Strike one Rumors filled my head making me dizzy with panic they have no right to break us up well, try I can’t handle it. Who are the ones lying? You say it’ll be alright, who cares what they say it’s you and me, nothing else should matter. I suppose you’re right but I’m losing my grip I need release.
Running I need to get away. I want to run and never look back. I need money, I need a car. I can’t live here, with them, anymore. They’re the source of my stress. The reason I’m always on edge. Families are supposed to support you, make you feel loved but I’ve never felt that way, I don’t even believe I’m part of this family. My sister, the Princess. Tells me she hates me and wishes I were dead. Nothing is good enough for her. She’s always screaming and crying. Taking everything she demands. She believes she’s humble and puts others first but I’ve only ever witness the opposite. She’s desperate to be liked by everyone allowing her fake personality and looks to define her. She doesn’t care about me and I don’t care about her. We’re merely roommates in a home run by two supervisors, a.k.a. our parents. My mom barely notices me. She doesn’t remember a word I say. She doesn’t pay attention to me; she’s too busy serving as a servant to my sister, making her life as easy as possible. I feel as if I’m a shadow lurking in the corner of a cluttered, forgotten storage unit. The place in her mind where everything she categorizes as inferior is kept, locked away. I have
to demand her attention and even then everything I say or ask goes in one ear and out the other. I might as well not speak or exist at all in her world. My dad’s always half drunk. We’re always in fights and everything’s supposedly my fault. I refuse to back down for him; I know he’ll be disappointed if I show weakness even though my stubbornness drives him insane. He’s always hot and cold. First wanting to be my best friend then screaming and yelling about nearly everything I do or say. Everything’s covered. Being verbally abused by my dad and sister, arguably being ignored by my mother as she changes her life around my sister, not being allowed to feel because it upsets all of them (not joking my dad even made an agreement with me), being blamed for the source of every problem because none of them can do wrong, none of them can cause an issue. They’re all perfect. I can’t wait to graduate, get away, start my life over without them and be able to surround myself with people that I love and love me back.
Yes. (Inner Monologue About Keaton) I still don’t know how I feel about us. I do however know how I feel about you. I love you. I never want you to leave. But was it smart saying yes, letting you into my life. I feel like things are more complicated when you’re around. But I’m also happier; I can deal with things better. I don’t know what to do. You’re leaving and I’ll be stuck here, without you. I don’t think if this, us, keeps up I’ll be able to stand being away from you when it comes time for your family to relocate. I know I can’t leave you though. I can’t walk away from someone I love; I’m not strong enough so again I ask myself if it was smart to say yes. Truth be told I was planning on saying no. Not because I didn’t like you, but because I knew I’d get too attached and that never ends well. I said yes. I let you in. I suppose somewhere deep down inside I knew no matter what happened, that being with you, however long it’d end up being, would be worth it. I knew I needed, wanted someone like you in my life. I hope I am right…
Dear the lies I’ve told, I hate that I let you escape my lips. You fly out so suddenly that I don’t have the time to close my mouth and lock away the words so you can’t get out. I know you think you’re helping. Swooping in to save the day when I feel panicked, scared, or guilty. You want to protect me and all the secrets I hold, all the things I’ve done wrong, all the things I must keep hidden. I know you mean well, but often times you leave me trapped. I can’t remember who thinks what and how to keep up with the lies. And I don’t want to have to. I don’t know how to control you. I wish things were less complicated. That life and interactions were simple again, when I didn’t need you. I know that I should be good at lying, seeing how much practice I’ve gained, but I think my doubt about letting you, my lies, take hold of my mouth and run free in a desperate and sudden attempt to keep my world stable, keeps you from sounding true. I only make things worse when I let you escape from my mind and out my lips. The truth is always found underneath all your effort to keep it covered. I’m too tired to try and keep up, drag out what isn’t true. Relationships have crumbled around me and trust
is no longer something I can advertise. I want to take back everything I’ve let you say for me. I don’t want the lies to exist. But I know it’s too late to fix everything I’ve let you ruin. The First Day I Found Doubt. (Inner monologue about Keaton) I remember the day when you broke my heart for the first time. “I love you,” you told me. “I love you too,” I responded smiling as I swung our arms back and forth. “In fact I love you more than chocolate.” “Whoa,” You joked. “That’s a lot. I don’t know if I feel the same.” “What, so you’d leave me for a truffle?” I tease as I lean on your shoulder. “You’re replaceable.” I felt weak. You looked me dead in the eyes. You spoke blandly, giving no mercy. “I…I know.” I stuttered. I had to be strong I couldn’t let you know I was weak. I smiled, shrugging it off, acting like it was no big deal. I pretended like I knew you didn’t mean it, that somehow it just slipped out. Even though I was crying on the inside, calling myself stupid for giving you the opportunity to say what you did, trying desperately to fight off the possibility of you leaving me.
I never shed a tear, even after I was alone, away from you. I remember all the times you apologized. Never to my face, only over text. I always said it was okay, not wanting to let you see that you could break me, wipe out all the progress you’ve made with me, my insecurities, with just two words. You’re replaceable… You always told me you cared; you always wanted to make me believe in you, in us. I was close, so close I wanted give myself to you for being the first I could believe truly cared about me, creating a deeper meaning when I referred to you as my first. And yet, you weren’t, you aren’t. You knocked me down, shifting my heart off center and left me feeling hollow.
The Keaton Chronicles: A Hidden Truth You tore me down ripped out my heart left me grasping for air as you watched what a sick game
Caledon (Memory of Keaton) An hour into our walk we arrived at the old oak tree stump. We always stopped here, relaxed and laughed. I pulled you along behind me as I took a seat, straddling the fallen oak. I watched your eyes look me over. I leaned in and kissed you. You placed your hand on my thigh, high, as you kissed back. We sat for a while not doing much, just enjoying each other’s company. Finally you stood up and helped me down so we could continue our walk to the beach. Sex. That’s always what it’s been about with us. We’ve never done it but we don’t plan on waiting either. I know it’s my fault. When I want something I obsess about it until I get it. It’s all I can think about when I’m with you; it’s all I’m thinking right now. We walked hand in hand down the gravel path until we eventually reached the beach. You whispered in my ear, “Guess what I’m going to do to you in a few minutes.” I felt my cheeks flush and smiled shyly at you, like I always do when you get my attention. We made it half way down the beach when you wrapped you’re hands around me and pulled me close against you. My back against your chest as you lifted my shirt up and
began to slip your hand into my shorts and under the elastic on my underwear. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to stop you; I wanted to tell you I love you and that I’m not ready. But I can’t resist you, I want you, I need you. I’m not ready. I turned around, kissing you. It took all that I had but I knew what I really wanted. I wanted to show you I’m happy without sex, that I’m happy when it’s just you and me, no touching. I felt your hands gripping my ass causing me to exhale slowly as you slipped your hand back into my shorts. I melted; I didn’t have enough strength to resist you again. On our way back to the parking lot we stopped at the oak one last time, as we always do. You kissed me and I began to feel guilty, like I needed to return a favor. I closed my eyes tight as I slipped my hand into your shorts and inside your briefs. I heard your breathing shift as I grabbed hold. I looked away. Why am I doing this, I’m not ready to do this. I continued, listening to you as I told myself it was okay, that I would have eventually done this. I feel choked up as you stop me. Again we kiss, and I force a smile. It’ll always be about sex, I can’t help it.
Resistant: Strike Two My hands have been dirtied B\but I don’t mind. What kills me is what you said, “I sucked.” I knew I would, it was my first time but you’re words sunk in deep allowing your venom to course throughout me I have to get the poison out, I have to bleed it out…
Why do Parents Like to Get Involved? My parents have done it again. I’m all worked up over nothing. They’re telling me to break up with him. Leave Keaton. How could they even suggest such a thing! I understand I haven’t seen him in two weeks because he keeps breaking our plans and won’t tell me why but that’s not a reason to break up with him a month before he’s moving. I love him. They say it’s unfair to me, that the break up is just being dragged out and becoming more painful. They’re screwing with my head, I don’t know what to do or think. They’re making me worry. I’ll text him, that’ll make it better. ME: hey KEATON: hi ME: what’s up KEATON: i’m sick, i think i’m going to go to bed ME: okay fell better KEATON: i love you ME: i love you too
That’s the longest conversation I’ve had with him in a few days. He doesn’t text me anymore, he can never talk. Should I break up with him? No. He’s just busy with… I dunno, whatever. Things will get back to normal. But what if they don’t, what if he doesn’t like me anymore, what if he doesn’t care because he’s moving, what if he never liked me, that he was using me! I feel like I’m going to pass out. A hot tear rolls down my cheek. I don’t know what to do, how to feel. I’m over reacting, I know that much, but are my parents right?
Resisting: Strike three Again through skin I cut lost in confusion and pain not sure what to think of you, of us because just being with you is no longer enough
Dear OCD, I never blame you for my problems and all the little things that simply drive me insane, all the rituals I must complete. I believe that if there were no disorders to be diagnosed with I’d still be me, Lexi. Just because I’m told I have you doesn’t mean it’s an excuse for who I am, how I act. You’re my personality and my lifestyle. I attempt to ignore the constant nagging going on in the back of my head when I choose to go against you, and try to rewrite all your little quirks. I’m told we’ve been one in the same all my life, that I am you and you are me. But all I wish is to break free, see what it’s like to take risks and follow a different path. I’m careful not to get stuck in a circle, start to go through the motions, although I fear it’s practically impossible. But now I see we’re not so stereotypical. You affect my thoughts, my emotions, but we’ve managed to live together without being caught. No one knows the relationship we share and why all our drama is there. I’ve grown to accept you always being at my side, influencing me, but also helping. The one thing I wish were different was that we wouldn’t scare people away. I’ve lost too many good relationships and ruined the ones that were left. They leave not quite understanding
us. They can’t put a finger on the thing that’s slightly off. They don’t understand why we do, say, and feel what we do. But it’s only fair to say I don’t quite get it either. The Keaton Chronicles: Can’t Believe it’s Over You loved me shortly and you loved me sweetly I let you down and you left to quickly.
The Break Up “Lex,” Nikki said to me, “I don’t think you love him.” You don’t think? How could you say such a thing to me? The only things I’ve ever been sure of in this world are my feelings. I realize it’s only been a short period of time but once you love someone it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I just nod as we walk over to her house. I’m clutching a small white pillow. All I want is to feel close to him, someone, something, this pillow. “You know Lex, you’re going to have to let go of that thing eventually.” Eventually. I feel the tears start to gather behind my eyes as I think about how it happened yesterday. We were only texting... ME: im lying on the floor KEATON: what’s wrong ME: just something that happened about a week and a half ago KEATON: what
ME: my mom was being stupid and I just got really upset KEATON: lexi what happened ME: it depends how mad you’re going to be KEATON: please don’t say what I think you’re going to say ME: im sorry… Thirty minutes pass. ME: keaton im sorry please text me back An hour goes by. ME: please text me back i got rid of it, i buried it. its gone Another hour ticks by. ME: please just say something, im sorry i wont do it again im done i swear. Around seven. KEATON: do you love me ME: yes i love you. i love you so much please forgive me i won’t do it again KEATON: why did you do it ME: it was really stupid i don’t really remember but im done now i swear KEATON: i don’t believe you
ME: please im sorry im done i love you KEATON: i don’t think i can do this ME: are you breaking up with me KEATON: you lied to me ME: i didn’t lie i just didn’t tell you right away, i was going to KEATON: i cant trust you anymore ME: please dont do this i love you and your moving soon please give me till you leave to make it up to you KEATON: i wanted to tell you in person but im not moving ME: keaton please, im sorry i can stop i wont cut again KEATON: i dont think you can stop and i have my own stuff to deal with besides watching the one love slowly kill herself and im afraid you will. but when your better we can be together again. i love you ME: i love you too I wish I could have told him why I did it, why I betrayed his trust. I told him if he made me promise him not to cut it’d be harder for me to stop, that he’d just have to trust me. He made
me promise. He should have known better, yet it’s still my fault. I miss him. It’s been less than a day and I miss him.
The Keaton Chronicles: My World is Crumbling I felt you disappear, vanish from my life no longer did I have a grip
Dear my body, I’m sorry about the scars I’ve left on you. I needed an escape, I felt I needed to punish myself, everything was my fault. I see you in the mirror; I see the lines that’ll never quite heal. We’re ugly. We’ll never escape them. I was foolish to inflict pain on myself, on your beautiful smooth skin. Now we’re marked up and inconsistent. Warning away all that come near, for their unaware that I’m better, that I’m no longer impulsive, reckless, sad. I want so badly to take it back. Numbing the emotional pain with physically seems silly to me now. I wish I thought about what people would think, what I would think, by the end result of my careless knowledge. I don’t think we’re that ugly though. I still think we make a fine pair. I do wish though that I had a spare suit of skin. One to slip on and cover up the past but at the same time I’m glad you and I are one. I want to remember and have a reason to be proud of whom I am today and I believe that one day we’ll find someone who thinks we’re beautiful, battle scars and all.
Summer, 2013 Slept on the couch every night hugging the brown notebook I was going to give him when he left. I haven’t eaten much. I feel hallow, unfulfilled, depressed, worthless‌
Reading Check List It’s kind of a funny story More than this OCD love story Teen angst? Nahh… Star girl Colombian Have a nice day Forgive me Lenard peacock Struck by lightning The program The treatment Hunger games An abundance of Katherine’s The fault in our stars Somebody up there hates you Paper towns Sleeping freshmen never lie Where things come back Girl stolen Want to go private Empty Find me Everything breaks The beginning of everything Dear the girls above me How to be interesting
The art and science of dealing with difficult people
Homecoming Game We’re approaching the second hour of walking around the football field. I feel bad; Madison’s been listening to me go on and on about Keaton. But to be fair it’s the first time I’ve talked about him to anyone since we broke up. Anyway I know she’s trying to make me feel better but I’m not sure if it’s only making things worse and more confusing. She told me how often he looks at me, every time we walk past each other his eyes fall onto me while I force my eyes to look anywhere else but back at him. How he just stands nearby and watches me. Of course I don’t notice, I can’t look in his direction, I can’t. I tell her how it happened, everything he texted me when he broke it off. Her response is simple and immediately takes over me. “I know not trying to get him back is killing you. You should talk to him.” Right then I decided I have to get him back, I have to try, I have to tell him I still love him, see if he still loves me.
The Keaton Chronicles: Realization ofa Sad Truth I miss you honey please come home I patched up all my cracks and knocked down my walls I’m ready to be open I’m ready to love because without you I am nothing at all
I Had to Text Him, I Had to… ME: The truth. These, aren’t excuses, I was wrong, you deserve to know. 1. My meds were jank = horrible racing thoughts. 2. You knew you weren’t moving, I didn’t. When we texted less, I didn’t get to see you, you wouldn’t tell me why, and would act like it was no big deal. I felt like you didn’t care anymore. I never believed it but the thought of lingered. 3. My parents were pressuring me. They thought the break up was being dragged out and it was unfair. 2 reasons I didn’t tell you. 1. You were sick and sleeping. 2. I was afraid I’d become too much for you. I’m sorry I waited to tell you. So as much as I miss you and want a second chance I just didn’t want you to think I threw us away for nothing. I hope she makes you as happy as I wish I could have. KEATON: you couldn’t txt or call ME: if you couldn’t handle me cutting i needed to get better faster even if that meant you breaking my heart and forcing me too. but im better now. KEATON: you ruined everything
ME: i know im sorry i dont deserve you KEATON: i cant do this right now ME: what do you mean? KEATON: im going back to texting my girlfriend I slept with my mom. I woke up at one sweating like crazy with insane fever. I needed to throw up. My mom got me water, a pot, and a banana. I couldn’t stop moaning, I felt guilty, so guilty it made me physically ill. I took a bite of the banana and immediately I started puking. I wasn’t trying to ruin things; I just wanted to let him know the truth, the thing he wanted. Oh god he hates me. I made everything worse, if that’s even possible. He regrets us, me, everything, I’m sure of it. When I’m finally done throwing up I just sit on the bathroom floor shaking and crying as I lean on the toilet. I don’t want to see him; I don’t want him to have to see me, remember me. I wish I could forget. I wish he would forget. Finally I muster up enough strength to crawl back to my mom’s bed and pull myself in. Forcing myself to sleep before I let him re-enter my head.
Thank you Tattoo Man I need something to believe in, something I can use to help me stop, well, continue keeping from cutting. So I thought, a tattoo, a butterfly tattoo. Not some crappie sharpie draw butterfly that I can scrub off, turning my skin bright red, if I get desperate enough. I don’t have a reason to keep from self-harming anymore so I need to make one. I used to say my reason was him. That I was doing it so we can be together again like he said we would be. But that turned out to be a lie, surprised I couldn’t figure that out for myself. Is it sad that I still believe it can work out? Then it shifted to solely proving him wrong. Not wanting, allowing, him to be right about me and my lack of control. He broke my heart and stole the one thing I’ve always wanted, to be cared about, when he left. He was the only one I could truly believe would be there for me and wants to be there for me. It’s not surprising I was wrong about that as well. So if I were to prove him right and continue to cut I’d feel like I would be letting him completely destroy me.
A butterfly tattoo. That’ll work. I can’t undo it and I’m crazy superstitious so there’s no way I’ll risk hurting anyone I love. I’ll use it to define my past and help shape my future. I’ll be the butterflies tattooed on my shoulder. I want to be proud of what I’m going to accomplish, I want to show off how strong I’ve become to the world. And I know that’s what the man who will ink his art into my skin is aware of. Why else would he break the law for me?
Dear Lexi, (The last thing he said to me)
We are never getting back together. You did more than just hurt me and yourself I can’t be with someone as reckless as you‌
Sincerely, Keaton The Keaton Chronicles: The Door Is Locked Down I tumbled you let me fall around me my world crumbled I found out we had nothing at all
My Parents Conversation: DAD: We both agree were only together for the kids. MOM: Yes but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to get along. DAD: I agree but the love’s gone. You don’t love me anymore. Mom = silence (I assume she sighed and nodded like she always does) DAD: So that’s what we need to deal with in order to get along. MOM: I’m just tired of all the fighting…
I Still Remember it Like it was Yesterday “Mom.” I say as I walk slowly into the kitchen. “Yeah?” she asks, sliding a frozen pizza in to the oven for dinner. “I think I may uh... I um... So...” I lift myself onto the counter hitting my heels on the drawers below me. “Lexi what is it?” my mom asks, closing the oven and turning towards the island to look over my sister’s dance schedule. “I was wondering if you’d take me to the hospital because I’ve been having some… issues.” I say just above a whisper. My head bowed. “What issues?” she asks, still not looking at me. “You’re really gunna make me tell you, you can’t just figure it out?” I ask regretting starting this conversation. “No Lexi, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says irritated as she turns to face me.
“Mom I don’t want to be here… anywhere, anymore,” I say looking at the floor gesturing with my hands. “So you want to kill yourself?” she asks simply. “Uh..yeah…” I tilt my head sideways forcing myself to look at her briefly. “Lexi this is the first I’m hearing of this.” She scoffs and places her hand hard on the counter, placing her other hand on her hip falling into her annoyed slanted posture. “Uh yeah, normally people who are feeling this way don’t want to talk about it,” I respond rubbing the palms of my open hands together looking nervously to the floor. “Lexi!” she says obviously not understanding what I’m saying, simply frustrated by the conversation. “Mom! Don’t get mad at me, at least I’m telling you,” I defend myself, getting slightly upset at the lack of concern she had. “I’ll have to talk to your father.” She turns away from me and walks into the dining room. “What is there to talk about?” I ask not understanding why she’s not getting the car keys to take me to get help.
“I just got home and I really don’t feel like driving so I’m going to see if your father will take you,” she said, defeated. “Okay, I guess,” I jumped off the counter. “Would you be fine with going tomorrow?” I suppose she doesn’t feel a sense of urgency when it comes to me living. “Yeah.” I answer, just wanting to get away. “Okay sweetie, do you want to sleep with me tonight?” It’s the first time she seems concerned. “No. I’ll be fine,” I lie. I’m not going to do anything stupid, but I know I won’t be fine. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.” “Mmmmhhhmmmm.”
Group Therapy “I’m tired of being a second choice.” I start crying. What is wrong with me, I don’t cry in front of people, what is this place doing to me? I am grateful to be here though, slightly embarrassed, but at least I’m getting help. I don’t really want to be here, but I do. I want to prove everyone wrong, I want to prove him wrong. I can stop, I won’t kill myself. I realize I’m here out of spite but I do find I’m feeling better. The people are nice, a little strange. I wonder if I really should be here, I don’t seem to be screwed up enough, have an important issue besides wanting to die. Maybe it was silly of me to come here, I know Nikki would think so, I don’t think I want her to know, it’s not like I actually did anything to get here, I volunteered to come. That’s kinda sad. Anyway I’m here, listening to people tell me it’s okay to cry, okay to feel. Well I’ve always known it’s OKAY but I’d still rather not do it. Why am I even crying over Nikki? She’s happy, I’m glad she finally found someone she loves. I mean she loved that other girl last year but I mean… I suppose I feel like a backup. She never really loved me, like I know we
care about each other to the extreme, at least I do anyway and I don’t want her to love me, but I wish she wouldn’t have dated me while she was talking to that other chick. I’m glad Nikki has her. I’m always hot and cold and confusing and depressed and basically not good for her, not what she needs. I mean I never kissed her. I would argue that I saw her for maybe three hours at most but when she asked me to homecoming I should have kissed her, I was scared though. I’m terrified of the first move. But once it happens, believe me, I’ll be all over you. Anyway I held the tears in, sniffled and looked at the counselor, nodding, letting her know I’m done for the afternoon. She turns her attention to the girl next to her as I block Nikki out of my head.
Relapse Five months was all it took for me to relapse. I had been in Snowden for five days, trying desperately not to give into my urge yet there i was, crouched on my bedroom floor staring at the horror of what I’ve just done. I don’t even remember the process I went through leading to this. It was all a blur and now I hate myself even more than I did before I cut. I don’t know what’s going on, I’ve never felt guilty about breaking skin before but now I’d do anything to take it back. I feel like I’ve disappointed someone for the first time when it came to my addiction. I’ve disappointed myself. I didn’t know how to feel. I convinced myself I’m doing this for others. For Keaton, to prove him wrong about saying I can’t stop. For Madison, I know how badly she wants me to stop, how much she’s done for me. For my parents, I ‘ve put them through so much and they let me get a tattoo, I told them it’s the only way I’d be able to stop for good, have a butterfly permanently inked into my skin.
Resisting: Couldn’t last I gave in, let my resistance falter before I knew it all I saw was oozing but it’s not the same it didn’t feel right now I know I’ve finally found a reason to fight
December 31, 2013 I’m soooo soar! Today I finally moved into the basement. It took forever but I don’t mind. I finally have some space from my family. I know they’re right up stairs and I’ll have to see them quite often still but at least I have my own space. I realize telling them I want to run away may not have been the best way to go about things but hey, here I am. I have a sectional, TV, surround sound to hook my turntable up to, my own bathroom, and a freaking huge room! And pretty soon I’ll have my license and a car. I’m on the path to young, independent-ish adulthood. Now all I have to deal with is about two days of unpacking all the boxes of my crap and decorating my walls with all the art I did in Snowden. I’d get started on it now but I want to relax and listen to The Beatles play through the speakers all around me. I think this change will make living at home and being around my family easier and possibly more enjoyable. I’m excited.
Restless So now I have ADHD. I went to a new doctor, my first appointment with one since Snowden and I was a little nervous. I went to sit in front of a man that was trying to find something wrong with me by simply observing me and asking me a list of questions for thirty minutes. It seems a little far-fetched. But supposedly that is what people do, what was recommended to me. So I figured what the heck. But here I am now, lying in bed at 3 something in the morning starting at the ceiling, my mind completely empty. This is my fourth sleepless night since I started my new meds. My head feels clouded but I do feel calmer and more relaxed. So I’m not quite sure if the meds are working. I don’t personally feel I have ADHD but I didn’t object while the doctor filled the prescription. I felt like I need there to be something wrong. That way not everything feels so confusing, that there’ll be a reason for the way I feel and the things I do. I like having things explained, I like logical conclusions to confusing questions. So for now, I’ll have ADHD, I won’t go around advertising it and I’ll deal with the sleepless nights because at least my mind feels at rest
The Week after Christmas Important note: *Dad= bipolar *Dad stopped taking meds
Mom left earlier this week for her work so it’s been just me and dad since Gena’s always at dance. I started noticing some weird things happening with dad. What I noticed: *He stopped sleeping *He made piles all over the house * He took pictures of everything, EVERYTHING *He giggled for no reason *He was spacy * He was happy
I didn’t mind him much in his manic stage, he was pleasant to be around although he was exhausting and everyone around him, friends and strangers, thought he was crazy. I never did though, I knew he was just wrapped up in the excitement of his new business idea, I didn’t mind his shifted behavior. Until now anyway.
Mom got home today a few days after dad started getting really weird. I turned into my father’s mother (having to tell him what to do as he pranced around like a toddler) and found out that he had been using me as his own personal experiment (he wanted to see if he could control and manipulate me emotions). As you can imagine, I was not too thrilled. He started saying and doing things that made no sense. He was obsessed with red dots “follow the red dots” he’d say over and over. He began have 3 hour long conversations with me about nothing that made sense or was even logical, it all came from his sleep deprived mind that was tricking him into believing he was some kind of genius.He stopped taking care of himself. Shaving, bathing, ect. I was getting tired of supporting him and being the only one that didn’t call him crazy but I kept in there knowing he needed me to be there, his rock. So now moms home and she’s not too thrilled. She’s apologized atleast a hundred times about leaving me alone with him. I tell her I don’t mind. That’s pretty much all there is to say.
My Father’s New Home Today, I hit a dog. It happened so fast. It was dark while I was driving to school. I started to slow down because the car in front of me was. Suddenly a black lab strolls out an inch in front of my headlight while I’m going 35. I hit it. I slammed on the breaks, crying. I hit a dog, a black lab. My only pet was a black lab, I feel like I hit Stormy. My dad grabbed my necklace and tried to take it off. What the hell is
he doing, stop being so freaking weird for once. Now he’s hugging me. Dad get the frick off! You know I hate it when you touch me. I push him off and pull over to the side of the road. My dad gets out and goes to talk to the owner. I see him pick the dog out of the ditch and carry it over. “What’s going on?” I ask, still shaking. “The guy gave him to us.” “Is he okay?” I ask looking at the bleeding dog. “Yeah.” “Well, I have to go to school so will you take him to a vet?” “Yes.”
The rest of the way to school I keep telling Dad to take him to a vet, hoping he won’t do anything stupid, he’s been kinda off. I park in my sisters spot and start towards the school building. I go to my locker and then first period. I ask my teacher to call my mom on my cell (the school doesn’t dial her number) and after announcements she sends me to the bathroom. “Mom.” “What Lexi?” “So uh, I hit a dog this morning and dad might bring it home, he’s on the way to a vet right now.” “What? No! No dog is allowed in this house.” “Mom it’ll just be until it’s all healed up. But I have to go so I’ll talk to you later.” “Are you okay?” “Yes.” “Okay love you bye.” “Love you bye.” The rest of the day was pretty normal until I got a note from the office saying I was leaving early. I met my sister at attendance shortly after.
“Did you hear about Dad?” “No, did he not take the dog to the vet? I kept telling him to.” “Well Mom wants to tell you, she’s home.” “Uh… okay.” When I got home I threw my stuff on the couch and headed upstairs. “Hey hun.” My mom said. “Hi, what’s going on? Where’s Dad?” “He took the dog to Fort AP Hill and told them the dog told him to take it there. He also said he hit the dog and they think it was a hit and run.” “I told him like twenty times to take it to a vet.” “He’s being processed into a mental hospital.” “Oh.” “Are you okay sweetie.” “Yeah.” “It’s actually a good thing this happened because me and your uncle Larry were going to get him to go and now that this is happened he doesn’t have to know about it.”
That was the beginning of his month long absence from my life and I actually didn’t mind.
Dear the one I love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know I was. I wish I could take it all back, start over. I don’t want to go on without you, I don’t think I can. I think about you often and it takes all the strength I have left to keep from looking your way. I want to take in your beauty but I can’t handle it. You’re not good for me. I shake and cry when I see you walk by. It hurts. I see emptiness. The love you had for me is gone. There’s only sadness, disappointment… disgust. I feel uneasy and trapped when you talk about me with your friends. I want to be invisible to you, to everyone. I can’t breathe when you look at me, I break out in a light sweat and my heart beats so fast and loud I fear that it’s trying to break through my ribcage and leap from my chest. You make me feel guilty and worthless. But I still can’t help loving you. I want to be close to you.
My love for you fights against me. Slowly deteriorating me with every wrong move you make.
February 9, 2014 Found out about the divorce today, well, the official divorce. When my father was taken into the hospital my mother told me her plans of leaving my father. I wasn’t surprised or really affected much by the news. I felt, happy. Then two weeks later my father decided to tell me that when he gets home he’s going to leave my mother. I stifled a chuckle and just nodded. That brings us to today. The day after my birthday. My parents sat me and my sister down in the living room and my father went on for at least a half an hour saying over and over that it’s for the best. To be honest we’ve all been waiting on this for a while and I personally don’t think it’s a big deal. They’re getting divorced, finally. I hope that’s not a horrible reaction to the news…
The News I’m sitting across from my mother at China Garden. “Lexi.” My mom says as she pours her Saki “Yeah.” “How would you feel about moving?” Personally I’ve been wanting to for a while. “... You know… I think I might finally be ready to move for the first time in my life.” “That’s good because it’s perfect timing with your sister moving and you know I’m planning on separating from your father.” I smile. “Yeah. Uh where would we be going exactly?” “Somewhere in northern Virginia.” “When?” “When the school year ends.” When the year ends, that’s so far away. I want to go
now. “Could we move now? I need to get out of here mom and I’d like to make it as soon as possible.” I ask hopefully. “It’s not going to work until later I’m afraid but I’m sure you’ll last.” I sigh. “Yeah. Have you talked to Dad or Gena yet?’
“No, not until things are more certain with everything…”
February 24, 2014 He’s finally moving out. After two weeks of suffering though his presence he’s finally moving out, a week early and everything! I will admit it’s mainly my fault, but I don’t see it as something wrong, I see it as a little push to get things in motion. Also I don’t believe my actions were completely unprovoked, he was kinda asking for it although I know he doesn’t realize it and never will, that’s the problem with denial. So here’s what happened. I’m sitting on the couch minding my own business when he decides to waltz in and look at the kitchen. The next thing I know is he’s screaming his head off at me TELLING me to do the dishes. Now normally I would do them except for the fact that he proclaimed a few days ago that all dishes are to be washed and put away right after use and so I had been doing what he asked all the while he is just dropping his dishes off on the counter while I wash them later in the evening because he’s yelling at me to do them because they’re not his… Anyway back to the big event. I don’t budge, tired of his behavior and the awful way he’s been treating all of us. Instead, I say that I will clean them once my episode is over, which was only five more minutes. Then the first f bomb comes followed by at least twenty others all within the same sentence as he threatens me about getting my butt off the couch. I still sit still not looking at him. He
keeps yelling. He’s fuming as he stomps over to the couch swearing left and right. Now here comes the good part, the punishments. First, he says Madison can’t come over anymore simply because I wanted to wait five more minutes to do HIS dishes, as well as TWO of my own. Second, he takes away his car which he gave to me on my sixteenth birthday. I simply shrug. I don’t want his car anyway; I don’t want anything of his or anything that’ll remind me of him once Mom and I move. Now he’s really pissed, but I could care less about him seeing how he doesn’t seem to care about me anymore. Finally he leaves only to come back and complain to my mother. He brings her into the living room and they sit down in front of me. He asks if he’s the problem, if for some reason he’s the reason we’re all acting weird. Now I found this somewhat amusing. You see he’s asked this question a few times and we reply yes every time but then he always follows up with no, no it’s not him, there’s something going on with us, we’re the crazy ones even though he’s the one that just got out of the nut house. Anyhow my mom says yes, and I chime in with, “That’s what we keep telling you.” He ignores me. It’s not the first time just a few days ago he ignored me as well, refused to even acknowledge my presence in this world, that I’m his daughter.
He talks to mom until she gets up and leaves at which point he moves his foot and knocks over my empty glass of chocolate milk. “This spilled,” he says to me. I find it comical seeing how it was empty. It’s sad that he’s so desperate to get out the anger he has at himself for screwing everything up by blaming me for the invisible mess, and if there were a mess I’d argue that it was his fault. I don’t look up from my phone, “It’s not my fault,” I say. Next thing I know he chucks it across the living room smashing it into pieces on the wall. “Yeah and that wasn’t your fault either,” he says as if to imply that it was. I don’t even flinch as I continue to text. it into pieces on the wall. Yeah and that wasn’t you’re fault either, he said as if to imply that it was. I don’t even flinch as I continue to text.
Need to be Thinner, Need to be Pretty So hungry. My stomach feels like it’s eating itself. My ribcage has become inverted and begun to bite and rip at the flesh inside of me. So tired. I need to keep pushing, keep working out. I need to burn the calories, I need to be thinner. Maybe he’ll like me thinner. Or maybe he’ll just notice me again. I’ve made it a month and there’s no difference, I need to lose weight I need to have smaller thighs, a smaller butt. A leaner stomach and toned arms. I’m down to only a few hundred calories a day if even that many. I need to see something. I need evidence that it’s working. I don’t see it visually so I need to see it on a scale. Food taunts me. I want nothing more than to eat it but it’ll make me bigger, undesirable. I realize that’ll get me noticed but I want him to want me, not laugh at my expense. I want to look hot, be the girl he dreams about getting. I want to be the girl he gets. My gut is shriveling. It’s hard to act healthy, energized. I feel light headed, I want to lie down, eat. Eat a bowl of cereal, an apple, maybe a burger, with ice cream for dessert. I want to eat like I used to. But how I used to eat caused me to gain eight pounds, caused me to need to excessively exercise, eat substantially less. I want to be back to normal. I want to be perfect.
Can’t Take it Like You Dish it? I don’t see my father as my dad anymore. I don’t really see him at all, I don’t want to. I’m done being part of his life and I sure as hell don’t want him being part of mine. He told me he didn’t care about me anymore and he still has the nerve to tell me he doesn’t understand why I treat him so badly. I realize he was fresh out of the nuthouse when he told me that but he also said he had been thinking about it ever since he got processed in there. I don’t mind forgetting him. He blames it all on me. He still says “hey Lex it’d be really nice if you didn’t hit a dog this time.” He does realize he’s the one that drove it to the base and told the guard the dog told him to. How the hell is that my fault? It’s not only the recent things though that have influenced my decision to block him out of my life; ever since my childhood his fathering skills have been diminishing. All the good memories I have with him hold one key aspect in common. He’s half drunk. To be fair all the bad memories I have he’s half-drunk as well. In fact now that I think of it, I barely see him without a drink in his hand. Ironically you’d always find him at his most enjoyable at his tipsy state but that’s also the time when he would be at his worst. Not that long before he was sent to the hospital he sat me down to have a talk, “Lexi, I’ll stop drinking if you’re more pleasant to be around.” What the hell is that? Not only is he seemingly blaming his drinking on me but
he’s now putting it on me to get better. He has always been dependent on me but never like this. Thinking back I really realized how fake he was as well. Acting like he was a better father than he actually was. One example would be the time we were driving to my therapist appointment and he was threatening to shove sleeping pills down my throat because he claimed I needed them and I told him I didn’t want to take them. Less than an hour later we’re both sitting in my counselor’s office discussing medications when she decides to bring up sleeping pills as an option. I couldn’t believe how much his opinion seemed to change. “I don’t want Lexi to take sleeping pills, they’re not really good for kids, I’d rather have her take something else if at all possible.” Once again he’s acting like a completely different person just because another adult is around (once we left he was back to yelling about force-feeding them to me). I’m ready to block him out of my life. I can’t deal with him any longer. He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness and he can’t force me to give it to him like he’s trying. Frankly seeing him so desperate to let him back in is pathetic and no father of mine is going to be so weak when he’s always so cruel. I give up. I’m done.
Dear Feelings, Get out of my head. I need to move on, I want to move on. I don’t want to think of him, I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to remember, anything. I’m sad to say it wasn’t worth it, he, wasn’t worth it. He broke my heart and I still feel the pain of it. I can’t escape the past although there’s nothing I wish for more. I often fantasize about what life would have been like without him. I will give our relationship one thing; he got me out of my depression. I know I could have done it on my own though. I know I would have gotten better, become happy again without him. He made me happy. But now he only brings pain, regret, and disappointment. I feel lied to, used. That maybe he only dated me because of my looks although he claimed I was his one, that he’d love me forever. He told me of our future. It was beautiful. What I always saw my future being. He captured my thoughts and turned them into the words I couldn’t find. He was amazing. I feel betrayed as he does. He’ll tell you the split was my fault but he was the one being the coward, he was the one that choose to quit, run away, after only fighting bravely for a short while.
He was playing a game, baseball, only he forgot to tell me. I made the same mistake two times and he said he understood, knew I needed time. Then strike three came, and he walked away. In the end though I believe I turned out the champion even though I struck out. Realizing I’m better off now, after everything, than I was before or would have been.
My New Home My mom rented an apartment. We’re moving in July 23rd. I can’t wait. I know my life will be better, I know it.