It is 12:01 pm where I am right now.
I went to apply for assistance yesterday, I think I have a good chance but I am still really worried about it though.
I have a dog named Gunner, he is a yellow lab and he is also the baddest dog ever! If you have read Marley and Me well this guy is a whole lot worse. He is three years old and we are just being able to let him out of the Kennel, still he is not allowed to roam the house when no one is home. He either goes to Doggy Day Care or he is blocked into the kitchen, only being able to go out on the deck.
We have two baby gates, one that goes across the front door and the other is downstairs by the laundry room. If the gate downstairs isn't up then he will bring up a piece of clothing and start to destroy it. Getting the piece of clothing back from him is damn near impossible, he jumps over the couch, runs outside or wet noodles. The only thing that really works is when you go after him with the baby gate, cause in his eyes those baby gates are magical and not able to be touched.
Yours truly, Simply 17
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Simba
It is 4:31 pm where I am right now.
I can’t remember a whole lot about my child hood, but what I do remember I wish I could erase from my mind. The things I can’t stop dreaming about at night.
When I was little my father had come home with the fluffiest, cutest and absolutely most adorable dog ever. I named her Simba, after the lion king. She was MY dog and I loved her, I walked her every day, I fed her every night and she was my family. My mother and father broke up, leaving my mother with a house she couldn’t afford and a lot of debt, so we moved into a duplex leaving Simba in the old house while it sold. Slowly my mother stopped giving me money to buy dog food; she refused to spend her little money on the dog that had been such a big part of our life. It is like she viewed Simba as a product of my father and she just wanted to leave that dog alone in the house, shitting itself and starving to death. I started stealing from my mother, 20 dollars a month; I would bike 5 km to the nearest grocery store and buy dog food for Simba. Eventually though, she got sick and I wasn’t able to steal the money to get her better, I told my mother and three days later WITHOUT telling me, she got her put down.
I hate my mother to this date, she did something that I don’t think a person with a conscience could do.
Yours truly, Simply 17
I can’t remember a whole lot about my child hood, but what I do remember I wish I could erase from my mind. The things I can’t stop dreaming about at night.
When I was little my father had come home with the fluffiest, cutest and absolutely most adorable dog ever. I named her Simba, after the lion king. She was MY dog and I loved her, I walked her every day, I fed her every night and she was my family. My mother and father broke up, leaving my mother with a house she couldn’t afford and a lot of debt, so we moved into a duplex leaving Simba in the old house while it sold. Slowly my mother stopped giving me money to buy dog food; she refused to spend her little money on the dog that had been such a big part of our life. It is like she viewed Simba as a product of my father and she just wanted to leave that dog alone in the house, shitting itself and starving to death. I started stealing from my mother, 20 dollars a month; I would bike 5 km to the nearest grocery store and buy dog food for Simba. Eventually though, she got sick and I wasn’t able to steal the money to get her better, I told my mother and three days later WITHOUT telling me, she got her put down.
I hate my mother to this date, she did something that I don’t think a person with a conscience could do.
Yours truly, Simply 17
Monday, July 13, 2009
M.I.A for acouple days!
It is 12:13 where I am right now.
Sorry for not writing so long, I have been pretty sick with the flu.
My obsessive behaviour makes me feel a bit different from everyone else.
T he doors have to be locked as soon as it gets dark, the must be locked and I must check 3 or 4 times just to be sure. Everyone around must be wearing socks, I never wear sandals and when I go swimming I have to stay in the water or put socks on. I do not use public washrooms, I wash my hands a lot, I use a lot of hand sanitizer and disinfecting wipes. If I am not as clean as I can be then I might catch something, a disease maybe. The biggest obsessive behaviour I have is not being late, I can’t be late I am afraid of it. If I am late I might miss something, most of the times I am an hour or two early for everything (appointments, dates, movies, and a lot more.
My friend’s kind of laugh at me, when we go to movies I get so stressed out if they are taking too long or we aren’t early enough. Sure it hurts my feelings but not every single person knows how it feels to have an obsession.
Yours truly, Simply 17
Sorry for not writing so long, I have been pretty sick with the flu.
My obsessive behaviour makes me feel a bit different from everyone else.
T he doors have to be locked as soon as it gets dark, the must be locked and I must check 3 or 4 times just to be sure. Everyone around must be wearing socks, I never wear sandals and when I go swimming I have to stay in the water or put socks on. I do not use public washrooms, I wash my hands a lot, I use a lot of hand sanitizer and disinfecting wipes. If I am not as clean as I can be then I might catch something, a disease maybe. The biggest obsessive behaviour I have is not being late, I can’t be late I am afraid of it. If I am late I might miss something, most of the times I am an hour or two early for everything (appointments, dates, movies, and a lot more.
My friend’s kind of laugh at me, when we go to movies I get so stressed out if they are taking too long or we aren’t early enough. Sure it hurts my feelings but not every single person knows how it feels to have an obsession.
Yours truly, Simply 17
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
My Depression Tactic
It is 6:21 pm where I am right now.
Dealing with my depression has been the hardest thing I have had to do so far. I have been trying various different things, the first being a journal but I found myself a little too paranoid about someone finding it. The next thing was meditating; I found that being a lone with my thoughts was not good. Cognitive Behavioural Therapy is what I am doing right now. So far I do not know a lot about it, but apparently it deals with depression and anxiety (my O.C.D aspects too).
Already I have been given two things to do, walk 3 times a week (walking releases enzymes) and write out my fears/negative thoughts. It is easier said than done and I find myself embarrassed when I write my fears out. I have to though; to get better so here I go...
I fear that if I show my true emotions to people they won’t love me.
I fear that no matter what I do, I will disappoint people I love.
I am afraid to die.
I fear death constantly.
I fear not being a part of people’s lives.
I fear that I won’t make it in life.
I am scared of going to sleep.
I fear that I will miss important things.
I fear people, large crowds and small spaces.
I fear old people.
I fear loud noises, they make me panic.
I fear yelling.
I fear panic attacks.
I am just scared.
I fear that I forgot to do something, all the time.
I am afraid the doors aren’t locked, I check multiple times.
I am afraid of the dark.
I fear being alone.
I am afraid of cars. I am afraid of driving.
I fear that I don’t belong.
I fear that my life will never truly begin because I have so much fear and anxiety.
My over all worry, the thing that keeps me the most scared is that I feel like someone is always after me. They could grab me in the dark or break in. I think this comes from my stepfather’s abuse. He would always tell me how I would wake up and find my dog dead or he would kill me. He use to tell me stories when I was eight about how he would beat women and other people. I guess what he told me has sat in my mind and turned him into a giant, where I can’t sleep, can’t charge him and can’t do ANYTHING without worry!
I feel like he is after me, although I know he is not, he is not all that he built himself up to be. He is just a sad man who has taken his angers out on someone else, I know this but still I am afraid.
Hopefully I will find the strength to charge him before it is too late.
Yours truly, Simply 17
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Getting Safe
It is 1:58 pm where I am right now.
On October 19th 2008 I told my mother that my stepfather had been emotional, sexually and physically abusive towards me. I suspect she had always had her suspicions- considering he had been emotionally and physically abusive to her too. When I told her, she was sorry and the next day she called me to tell me he had admitted everything and also went on to tell her why. Apparently his parents had treated him that way (this scares me because I want to have a child and what if I hurt my child? How do you trust yourself?). She promised me that she would do whatever it took for her to get away but it has been about 10 months since that promise and still I remain motherless.
I never did trust her though, something inside of me said it was lies.
2 months before my birthday I called the government I got emancipated which by legal definitions I am my own guardian and at that point I applied for assistance. I started receiving $491.00 a month.
I was living with my best-friend and her family which to this day I think of as my own, they showed me how a real family works and her mother protected, tried to give me strength.
I payed them $791.00 for October, November and part of December but I couldn't stay because there were four children already and no space left.
After Christmas I moved out and in with a girl who was having trouble making ends meet, lets call her D. A couple weeks after I moved in I realized that we were the carbon copies of each other! Thats when I started drinking and doing drugs. I drank to be happy and I smoked dope so I could sleep, the dope was my favorite it gave me a dreamless sleep where no repressed memories could wake me up. D was drunk six days out of the week and on the seventh day she would sleep, I also noticed she had a bit of a cocaine problem.
Though I loved D, I felt that I could not live there anymore. My depression had spun out of control, all the thoughts I had were of ending my life. Many times I drove myself to the hospital, I just couldn't trust me to keep safe anymore and at one point I almost over dosed but on what, I will not say.
After that I was trading things for Clauzapan (if I spelled that right). I would take 6 or 7 of them and sleep all day but after those ran out I was left with nothing, no dope, no alcohol and no Clauzapan to lean on. I faced myself and still hated what I saw, what I am trying to say is none of that made a difference- none of the drugs I took made me see myself differently. I ended up hating myself more because I didn't have the strength to stay away from drugs and alcohol- I could have been like my father. At that point I called the one person who offered me a place irregardless, my Aunt.
Thats when I got safe.
Yours truly, Simply 17
ps; If anyone is reading this, feel free to comment- also just wondering if anyone has been abused badly and managed to raise a child without using abuse.
On October 19th 2008 I told my mother that my stepfather had been emotional, sexually and physically abusive towards me. I suspect she had always had her suspicions- considering he had been emotionally and physically abusive to her too. When I told her, she was sorry and the next day she called me to tell me he had admitted everything and also went on to tell her why. Apparently his parents had treated him that way (this scares me because I want to have a child and what if I hurt my child? How do you trust yourself?). She promised me that she would do whatever it took for her to get away but it has been about 10 months since that promise and still I remain motherless.
I never did trust her though, something inside of me said it was lies.
2 months before my birthday I called the government I got emancipated which by legal definitions I am my own guardian and at that point I applied for assistance. I started receiving $491.00 a month.
I was living with my best-friend and her family which to this day I think of as my own, they showed me how a real family works and her mother protected, tried to give me strength.
I payed them $791.00 for October, November and part of December but I couldn't stay because there were four children already and no space left.
After Christmas I moved out and in with a girl who was having trouble making ends meet, lets call her D. A couple weeks after I moved in I realized that we were the carbon copies of each other! Thats when I started drinking and doing drugs. I drank to be happy and I smoked dope so I could sleep, the dope was my favorite it gave me a dreamless sleep where no repressed memories could wake me up. D was drunk six days out of the week and on the seventh day she would sleep, I also noticed she had a bit of a cocaine problem.
Though I loved D, I felt that I could not live there anymore. My depression had spun out of control, all the thoughts I had were of ending my life. Many times I drove myself to the hospital, I just couldn't trust me to keep safe anymore and at one point I almost over dosed but on what, I will not say.
After that I was trading things for Clauzapan (if I spelled that right). I would take 6 or 7 of them and sleep all day but after those ran out I was left with nothing, no dope, no alcohol and no Clauzapan to lean on. I faced myself and still hated what I saw, what I am trying to say is none of that made a difference- none of the drugs I took made me see myself differently. I ended up hating myself more because I didn't have the strength to stay away from drugs and alcohol- I could have been like my father. At that point I called the one person who offered me a place irregardless, my Aunt.
Thats when I got safe.
Yours truly, Simply 17
ps; If anyone is reading this, feel free to comment- also just wondering if anyone has been abused badly and managed to raise a child without using abuse.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Just Starting
It is 2:40 am where I am right now.
I am not much for honesty, it is hard to be honest with yourself much less people I have never met before but... I am starting to warm up to the idea.
I am 17 years of age, but I really do feel a lot older but that is probably because of how many experiences I have had so far and I am not bragging because seriously I wish most of them have never happened.
My father was an alcoholic and not one of those drink quietly and keep my addiction hidden alcoholics. My father was a ragging alcoholic from the day I was born until probably the day I die. I still don't understand why a man like that would have children. Nor would I have imagined the woman who would marry a man like that- if she were not my mother.
One time my father passed out in the driveway with a thing of vodka in his hand, my mother went out and covered him with a tarp because she did not want the police to come again. She said nothing to me or my brother all night and she never acknowledged it ever again. Most likely if I were to ask her tomorrow about the tarp incident she would say "it never happened".
I ask myself everyday, who am I mad at? My mother, my father, my grandfather, or, my stepfather? I realized I am not mad at any of them, sure I have been hurt by them but the real person I am mad at is me. I could have done so many things differently, I could have told on my grandfather the first time he molested me at age 5, the first time my father beat me, the first time my mother abandoned me or even the first time my step father raped me.
I don't want to be mad at myself anymore, I do not want to drink, take drugs or have panic attacks anymore- and I am going to take life day by day so I can get safe and get better.
I will write each day.
Yours truly, Simply 17
I am not much for honesty, it is hard to be honest with yourself much less people I have never met before but... I am starting to warm up to the idea.
I am 17 years of age, but I really do feel a lot older but that is probably because of how many experiences I have had so far and I am not bragging because seriously I wish most of them have never happened.
My father was an alcoholic and not one of those drink quietly and keep my addiction hidden alcoholics. My father was a ragging alcoholic from the day I was born until probably the day I die. I still don't understand why a man like that would have children. Nor would I have imagined the woman who would marry a man like that- if she were not my mother.
One time my father passed out in the driveway with a thing of vodka in his hand, my mother went out and covered him with a tarp because she did not want the police to come again. She said nothing to me or my brother all night and she never acknowledged it ever again. Most likely if I were to ask her tomorrow about the tarp incident she would say "it never happened".
I ask myself everyday, who am I mad at? My mother, my father, my grandfather, or, my stepfather? I realized I am not mad at any of them, sure I have been hurt by them but the real person I am mad at is me. I could have done so many things differently, I could have told on my grandfather the first time he molested me at age 5, the first time my father beat me, the first time my mother abandoned me or even the first time my step father raped me.
I don't want to be mad at myself anymore, I do not want to drink, take drugs or have panic attacks anymore- and I am going to take life day by day so I can get safe and get better.
I will write each day.
Yours truly, Simply 17
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