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Realization
Sunday. 2.22.04 10:26 pm
I got into a minor car wreck and now I'm grounded for I don't know how long. My parents took the keys away from me. The fuckers that I hit are trying to screw us. The wife is complaining that she's sore from the accident which is of course all fucking bullshit because there isn't even a fucking dent on my fucking car. And the impact was like a jarring on a roller coaster ride when you stop. Yeah, that's how minor it was. So now I'm grounded.

I'm in a very strange mood right now. I haven't felt this way in a long time. I don't know if it is a good thing or a bad thing. It's probably because I've been home all day the past three days. I miss it. I miss being alone by myself in my house when no one is around. I haven't stayed home like this in a long time. I haven't given myself enough quiet time. It feels so good to just sit and think. God, I remember when I use to stay home all the time, and the only thoughts that popped into my head were dark and depressing thoughts. I remember hating staying at home because it made me so depressed. But this summer, I taught myself how to control it. It's great. It's nice to know that I never really get bored at home. So much for punishment. Yeah, I miss seeing Bettie and Priscilla, and I miss the freedom of driving. Actually I don't miss driving. But it's not like they can ground me forever. And then they'll get sick of me being at home and will want me to go out and socialize. It's not like I'll be grounded forever. So I'm taking advantage of this isolation.

My dad really does love me. Last night, I slipped down the stairs, my cell phone flew from my hand and hit the wall, and my dad came running toward the stairs with a look of horror and worry on his face that I have never in my life seen before. And at that moment, everything was pushed out of his mind, there was no car accident, no tension, etc. That very moment when he came running towards me, I knew that he really does love me, and I felt so warm inside. The problem between my dad and I is that we hide too much of ourselves. Our weaknesses and feelings we keep a close guard on. And both of us are too stubborn to yield to the other. I am very much like my dad. If only I could be half as good as he. I know though, when I'm older, we'll be able to talk. My dad does not believe in the whole father daughter friendship thing. Thus, the reason for our lack of communication. But the problem is, will it be too late then? I really should tell him how he affected my life. I will. I will. On Father's Day.

I really do love Bettie. I cried today at the thought of her leaving to New York and not ever being able to see her again. Even though she's not going to be leaving until another two years, it still hurts to think that she won't be a part of my life forever. It still hurts to think that she'll find someone to replace me once she gets settled in NY. It hurts to think that she'll be leaving, and I'll be left behind. I can't see my life without her, yet I know she'll be leaving, so my path lies in clouded darkness. But in any case, I'll leave the future to the future and stick with the present and cherish what time I have with my first true love.

Bettie wanted me to be more dominating. I have come to the conclusion that I'm not going to because she doesn't take pleasure in being submissive and I take great pleasure in it. She likes being dominating and I like being submissive. It's not in my nature to be dominating. And that's the one big thing that broke Mariela and I up. I didn't know that until just recently. That was the strange vibe that I got from her. The wall that was between the two of us that we were never able to break. And I must admit, it was mostly my fault and not hers. She opened herself up to me more then I ever did with her. We were both waiting for something that neither of us could give. I was never able to play the dominant role. And when I realized that I had to in order for this relationship to work, I closed myself up and pushed her away. I admit fully, I was an outright bitch to her. But playing that role just sets me off and brings the asshole-ish side out of me. I guess that's the reason why I want to speak to her and make amends. Yes, I'm so proud of myself, I finally figured out what the bad vibe between the two of us was! Victory. Finally! It fustrated me that I couldn't figure it out. Anyways, Bettie shoudn't feel like a tyrant just because I want her to overpower me. After all, I do enjoy it. And she enjoys it. It makes me happy to know that she does enjoy it. Now, if only she would stop fighting it and just give in! Hmph! I can tell she holds herself back when she's aggressive with me. I really wish she didn't though. That time in Priscilla's room was great. Don't hold back. Just do it. And, if at any point I don't enjoy it, I'll be sure to tell you. And technically, we do have equal power. It's only unequal if you take the power from me unwillingly. And I always have the power to tell you to stop. =D

As for Priscilla, I was reading her blogger earlier. Don't feel guilty because you aren't changing. You aren't really fucked up. There's nothing wrong with being "demented and evil". In any case, you aren't even demented or evil! Your parents are completely fucked up and should let you be your own god damn person. Do not feel guilty. And you should never change for someone else. You always, ALWAYS, change for yourself. Right now, I honestly don't see anything that you should change. Oh wait, I do, your OCDness. Haha. No, just kidding, everything about you, how you think and how you handle things and what you do, make who you are right now. And at this particular time, that's who you need to be yourself, not what someone else wants you to be. As I learned from my dear English teacher (I do pay attention in class), people have their own rhythms in life. They dance to a different tune and have their own beat. And that's what makes them human and unique. So fuck your parents and forget what they said to you.

Ben has persuaded me to see a therapist. I am going to talk to my mom about it when I have the time. His little "mock trial" of it on the net has put me at ease. I know it'll be difficult for me to voice my feelings but that'll take some getting use to. The one thing that I have to remember is that I don't need to pretend to be someone I'm not. I don't have to pretend that I'm okay. The problem is what to tell and what not to tell because I don't want the therapist to relay shit to my parents. Even though, it might be a good thing that the therapist tells my parents something, but there's some things, for instance, the rape, that I don't want my parents knowing about it. They wouldn't be able to deal. Not yet.

You know what? I never knew the difference between abuse and a spanking. What's the difference? When do spankings become abuse? I remember when my mom pulled down my pants and started hitting me with a wooden board. And I remember them belting me. Actually, I don't remember that but I know it happened, and plus my dad sort of told me. I can't slams doors because of that. I wonder what happened. I remember my dad telling my mom to get the belt, and I started crying and begging. Yep, that's it. What on earth is a spanking? I'm so confused now. I mean, at what age does spankings turn to abuse? Or is spanking and abuse to different things? I'm confused.

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Flashback of the Rape
Wednesday. 2.18.04 12:03 am
I don't feel comfortable writing this subject on my other online journals because everyone can fucking read everything. But at the same time, I need to make it a public entry somewhere because, I need other people's insights, advice, and perhaps similar experiences so I won't feel so alone in this even though I know I'm not. I know people who've been raped but I've never known anyone who was an incest victim. Shit, I don't even know if it's incest. In any case, I was masturbating earlier, and I didn't hear his voice, I did but I didn't, I didn't see him, but I did but didn't. It's hard to explain. But it was the first time it happened. That sort of thing at least. It's like I went back in fucking time. This sucks. I think I just regressed and am kind of stuck there. The full effect of what just transpired is starting to hit me. But okay. Getting this out of my system. He didn't just want to fuck me. He wanted me to enjoy it. He wanted me to be afraid of pleasure unless it was with him because this...that...was all I would ever be good enough for. To please him. To allow him to please me. No one else. Shit...I better type this out before I forget. Noo, it's fleeing. He started fingering me first. I hated it. I couldn't understand why he was doing it. I wanted him to stop but I couldn't stop him. I didn't even try. He told me to surrender myself to the pleasure. That this was the right thing to do. Give in. This was all I would ever be good for. He told me not to fight it. I tried fighting it anyways. But he was too good, too experienced, and I was too inexperienced. He was very gentle with me so I would believe him. I tried not to make any noise because I guess I thought that would be like surrendering to it. But it was too much, I felt it coming, I felt the pleasure. My breathing became ragged, and and...I moaned. I didn't like what he did, I didn't like that he was the one doing it, but I liked the pleasure he gave me. I .. I felt dirty...and still feel dirty for enjoying it. It was the first time he did it, and it wasn't the last time. He would keep doing it until I started to really enjoy it...keep doing until I wasn't so tense...keep doing it until I wanted him to do more. 'Till I wanted him to fuck me. And he made me beg for it, then he would fuck me. Hard. It hurt. Really bad. But I enjoyed it. I'm ashamed of myself for enjoying it. I can't even think of the word he used. He said...right...deserve..."You don't deserve anything then this." He started getting nastier and nastier with me. The smirk in his face scared me. He had black hair. Fuck. I wasn't suppose to remember that. Fuck. Why the fuck is it all coming back to me now? It was my uncle. I can see him. Shit. Fuck. Mother fucking a. If my uncle was to strip right in front of me, I bet you I could ... I could draw him if I knew how to draw. Every pubic hair, his arms, his chest, the hair on his chest, his armpit hair, the way he stood, his legs, his feet, the way he looked when he was about to take me, everything. I remember. I think I'm going to throw the fuck up. Ahhh. This needs to go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go the fuck away. At ... nevermind.

I knew this was going to happen when Max came out and he was just sitting there on the counter with his head down! I knew it when I felt the presence of a child at the door of the physics room. I knew it when I felt that I wasn't in my body. I knew it I knew it I knew it. Fuck. Ahhh. At least now I know that pleasure isn't bad, that I do deserve more than his mistreatment...thanks to Bettie. God, she's a life savior. I love her so much.

We do deserve more. We deserve more then what that guy gave us. He had no right to do this to us. What he said was wrong. It was only to make us feel smaller. We don't deserve that. He's gone now. Gone in California. Shhh. Shush. It's okay. He's gone and he won't hurt us anymore. Pleasure is good when it comes from someone that you love. Not that kind of love, a different kind of love that you don't understand yet. You'll understand when you're older. It's okay. I'm here to protect you. It's okay. Don't cry anymore. You're safe with me. There's no need to fear him anymore. He won't hurt us. I'll stop him if he does. We're going to bed. I shouldn't forget this no matter how much I want too. Ah. Maybe I'll try to draw him tomorrow. His figure is perfectly imprinted in my head. *Sigh* I love you. It's okay. We're safe from the bad guy.

Goodnight.

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Update
Tuesday. 2.17.04 12:19 am
I think I'm going to be writing in this blog more often due to the fact that no one knows about it and I can express myself more freely on here. Anyways, where to begin? So many things has happened so far that I don't know where to start. I stopped thinking about the rape thing a long time ago. I'm pretty sure I know who did it. It was my uncle, on my step-dad's side. I could be wrong, but it really doesn't matter. I don't need to know who it was and how it happened. I just need to believe that it did happen and heal from accepting it. I haven't accepted it 100% but I've grown in the past few months more then I ever have before. I don't think I need a therapist for this. I can help myself for now. The thought of it only bothers me when I'm really emotional, so I've still blocked a lot of it off. In fact, all of it. In time, I'm sure my conscious will give me a very rude awakening which I'm quite terrified of actually. I can feel Max, but he never talks anymore. It's weird. It's like he's alseep. That's kind of scary. I haven't thought about him in a few weeks I think. Then suddenly, the thought of him crosses my mind last night. I haven't exactly been paying much attention to myself. Well, I can't remember. It's sad. I remember going through school in a daze. But the only thing I really remember is having the stomach virus and that was just a few days ago. After that, it's a tad bit hazy. I mean, school wise. I can tell you what I did during the week, just not on the right days and stuff. But that doesn't matter. The point is, Max has been a little too quiet. It makes me nervous. I can feel him though. Looking through my eyes, in a calm and reserved manner. Too confusing. I'm not thinking about it now.

I just realized how many people are actually into the BDSM scene. I was at group this Thursday and it was amazing how many people raised their hand and explained how they loved being tied and spanked..and yada yada. I didn't think the whole dom/sub thing was so common. Obviously it is, especially around gay guys. I'm not stereotyping, just making an observation. Kinky sex is fun. I want handcuffs. I was thinking about one thing that I don't think I would be able to live without in my partner. And that is definitely the whole dom/sub thing. I love feeling helpless more then I like feeling pain. But that intermixed is...god. I mean, my girlfriend and I don't have the whole dom/sub thing going on full time, I would die if that happened, but she does it often enough and I love it. It's the best feeling in the world. To surrender yourself to someone completely. Yep. I'm a newb and don't know what I'm talking about. It doesn't matter. I have a sadistic megalomaniac (sp?) and pyromaniac g/f who gives and takes power away from me as she pleases. And that's all I care about. At least she doesn't abuse her power. One of these days, I'm going to let my sadistic side out to play. Sad thing is, she hasn't even let that part of her out or else I wouldn't be sitting here typing this. God, how I love her.

I have her necklace! Yay! I totally went off topic. One of these days, I want to experience the real thing. The real BDSM. Not whatever the fuck I'm doing with my g/f right now, which is too real and too fake at the same time, if that makes any sense. It doesn't have to. It makes sense to me. But then, I have this serious problem with doing what people tell me to do. It's just not my style. I'm going to go to bed now. I totally got off topic, but I'm not in the mood to write anymore. So...goodnight.

Nutang is so much better than diaryland and xanga put together.

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Death
Saturday. 1.10.04 12:34 am
Well, I went through today like it was a dream.

A part of me died just as a part of her died today. I think we were both changed due to the situation last night but I'm excited to see her tomorrow. She tried to commit suicide. I'm so glad that she didn't die. I love her so much. I can't live without her. She dies, I die. She was the one that gave me hope. She was the one that brought life back. She was the one who made me whole. She was the one that made me alive. Without her, I'm nothing. Sad how I am utterly dependent on her. Eh, but I could stop if I wanted, I just don't want to because she wants me to be dependent on her. She wants me to be like how I was with May. Luckily with May, I learned a lesson. I learned self-control. Whoo fucking hoo. Most of yall probably don't know what I am talking about. www.xanga.com/scarsforlife <------It's all there somewhere.

It'll take to long to explain and I don't feel like explaing it for the thousandth time.

Anyways.

Goodbye.

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Rape
Saturday. 12.20.03 1:43 am
Looks like I will be typing yet another sad entry. But I truly need to get this out of my system. I need to figure this out.

I need to go see a psychiatrist. I've been saying this for a very very long time. But I could never bring myself to see one. Now more then ever, I think I need to. But the thing is, I don't trust them. Many shrinks don't like dealing with teenagers. How do I find one that does? Not to mention, the things I wish to talk about I don't want my parents knowing but because they are my legal guardians and shit, the shrink will most likely tell my parents. They'll probably throw me into Green Oaks like they do to every other fucking teenager just to get rid of us. I want to see a psychiatrist so fucking bad right now, but I'm not sure if that would be the best decision.

I've figured out some disturbing things about myself in the past few days. There's a part of me that wants to still deny it all, I honestly don't want to deal with the idea, but deep down I know it to be the truth. So what exactly was it that I figured out?

I believe I was raped by my step father when I was younger. More then once. How did I come to this conclusion? It explains so many things about myself. It explains why I cannot be sexual at all, it explains how I treat my parents so terribly, it explains how my mother is so dependent upon the father, it explains the confusion that I have always felt since I was a child, it explains how my life is virtually "perfect" yet I'm so fucked up, it explains the turmoil I feel within myself, it explains why I'm so tom boyish, and how I'm able to block things off so fucking easily. It explains why I'm still scared of the dark. It fits into the fucking puzzle perfectly. That scares me to no end. I don't know what to do at all.

I remember when I first mentioned it to Bettie. When I heard her opinion as to why I was not sexual, I felt the turmoil slap me in the face. The turmoil that I usually feel within me was vague. I knew it was there, but I never truly felt it. But that night I felt its full force. That's when I knew it to be true. I felt the little boy's presence and his anguish and pain. I heard his helpless cries. I've taken on some trait of that little boy because I dress all tom boyish and shit. From what I've gathered, I feel the little boy's age is about six. Maybe younger, I'm not sure. There's a large part of me still holding on to some part of my life when I was younger. There's a part of me that is living in that time. It's like I stayed there and never fully progessed past that age. It explains how I handle things in an immature way. I feel like I'm a kid stuck in a teenager's body with the mind set of an adult. I'm going in three different directions all at once.

Why do I feel that it is my step father? For one, the thought of that strikes a chord of fear within me and intuition tells me that it is him. It also explains how I can't remember much of my past. Or rather, I don't want to. It also explains how he is overly nice to me and how I'm not able to talk to him or even feel close to him. From what Bettie has said, she thinks he fits the profile of a rapist. I'm going to look up on that. What rapist are really like, their personalities and such, and then determine if this is really true. Last night, I was talking to Bettie about it again, and when I fully acknowledged that it was my step father I was scared to death. So scared I was at the brink of tears. I haven't felt so much fear since I was a kid. There's something about open doors that scare the living shit out of me. Last night, my bathroom door was open and I wanted so bad to close it, but I couldn't. I was scared that if I walked up there and tried to shut the door, something would jump out at me and hurt me. So I didn't shut the door. I didn't turn off my lights. I slept with them on and I hid under the blankets. That's what I always did as a kid when I was scared. Why do I think that it happened more then once? Because last night, when I experienced that fear, part of the reason behind it was that I didn't want it to happen again. It wasn't that kind of fear where, it happens once and then your scared of it happening again. It was the kind of fear like it happened way too many times, and I just wanted it to bloody stop because I wasn't sure I would be able to deal with it anymore if it happened another time. That kind of fear. I was so scared of being in that house last night. I had this fear that he would come up to my room and do what he did many times before and that no one would be able to hear my screams. No one would be there to help.

I've also determined that I've learned to turn off my sexual drive. With Bettie for instance, I can picture myself fucking her. I know what to do. But when I'm with her and we get physical, all of it is gone. I don't know what to do. Today, we got physical. My whole way home I was shaking. I hate myself. I hate the fact that I can't get sexual with her. I hate the fact that I suddenly lost all knowledge of what to do when the time arises. Some other part of me has control over me because of the little boy inside. I know why all of a sudden I was on the verge of tears when I took Bettie home. Jessica wants Bettie. She wants Bettie very badly. More then Bettie even knows. More then I can express. She wants to taste her, to feel her, to touch her, to surrender herself fully to her, to consume herself in her scent, in her touch, in her breath. There's a but. Someone else pushes it all down, pushes all the passion down to where it is just a vague buzzing in the back of my mind. Why? The little boy gets scared. The little boy doesn't want it. Someone, not me, has set up a security wall and that over rides everything that I desire. I'm fighting a battle within myself, and I constantly lose. It explains why I felt soo...I don't know today. I felt so lost, so confused. It explained why I was both scared and not scared. Why I wanted it but I didn't. Everything she did to me was soo god damn pleasureable, but at the same time everything I allowed her to do hurt the little boy. I HATE THIS. I'm so lost. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to handle this. I don't know who to talk to. I can feel myself losing control. All I want to do is please her. But I bloody CAN'T. I'm going to cry. I feel like I am betraying the little boy within me, Bettie, and myself. In the end, we all lose! Because all three of us aren't able to get what we want. I'm so sexually fustrated. God, this explains so much. It explains how for a very long time of my life, I found it disgusting to even hug people. I can feel the little boy's presence right now. He's mad at me. That's funny. No it's not. He's mad at me for letting Bettie do what she did and enjoying it. He can't understand why I enjoy it. He can't understand why I take pleasure in pain. He hates the struggle. I love the struggle. I love the fight. He hates all of that.

This is beyond anything I can handle alone. I can deal with everything else alone. Not this. This is something I need help in. I need advice. I need guidance. But who? Not my parents. No, they would deny it. I hardly think my mom is going to tell me that..."Oh yeah, your dad raped you when you were younger." It explains why my mom dislikes and treats my step-brother so unfairly. It also explains why she wasn't able to give me a proper reason as to why she treated him so. She's blocked it off as much as I have. Now, I can feel the vibe around my dad. I can feel that he's hiding something.

Someone. Help.

If I find this to be true. I'm willing to forgive my step father.

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Best Friends
Wednesday. 12.17.03 9:34 pm
So this is my very first entry and I am afraid I will be beginning this on a sad note unfortunately. My friend Priscilla is apparently mad at me or hurting because all the shit I gave her about smoking weed. She's like my best friend. No, the word 'best friend' doesn't even begin to describe the bond we had together and I am quite frightened that it will all be ending shortly. I can't help but think that part of it is my fault. If I would have just bottled up my anger and kept my mouth shut none of this would have happened. But then again, I know that would not be the case. Even if I didn't say anything, we would both feel the tension between us and that would inevidently pull us further a part. I think it was best that I decided to voice my opinion on the matter. But I could have been a lot more gentle.

So why exactly does it bother me so much that she smokes weed? Because weed makes you stupid. Not to mention she does it just to run away from all her problems. She doesn't like dealing so she gets high. She gets high so she'll fit in somewhere. And the worst reason of all, she gets high because subconsciously she is setting herself up to fail because inside she has always believed that she was never good enough for anyone and always did everything wrong. The girl has so much potential to be whatever the fuck she wants to be. She has the intelligence and the heart. I don't want to see her ruin it. That's why it pisses me off so much when she goes to that fucking pothead Josh's house just to pick up a dime and get high with them. Man, she herself knows that she doesn't fit in with them. She doesn't feel comfortable. I don't know man. If you really love someone, sometimes you just have to learn to let them go and let them trip over their own mistakes.

She obviously took what I said the wrong why. She thinks that I hate her but I don't. I don't hate her at all. I just hate what she does. But not her. I would never ever be able to hate her. She was the first person that taught me how to love and care. I would die for her. I would kill myself if that would set her up for a great future. It was partially my fault for getting so pissed off. I should have been more rational. I know I said a lot of stuff that hurt her. And me of all people should know how she would handle it. But I did it anyways. I don't even know if what I did was wrong or right. But then again, I never cared so much about right and wrong. Let me rephrase. Was that the best action I could have taken? I tried talking to her yesterday. It didn't work. I talked to her before about it. It didn't work. Should I have just kept my mouth shut? No, because I care about her. I don't say shit to other people about them getting high because I don't care about them as much as I care about Priscilla. All of them, could die from weed and I really wouldn't care. I don't know them. It's their life. I don't care. If I kept my mouth shut it would have been like treating her like a stranger. And she's not a stranger. I could not just sit around and watch her fuck up her life, again. What I said to her was written on my Xanga

I'm scared that this will really be the end of our friendship. Over something this stupid. She's starting to block me off. God, I want so badly to block off this pain and chaos within me. But I won't. I refuse to. Then, everything I have been working on would mean nothing. It's time for people to affect me. It's time for me to stand my ground and face my fears full on. Times change. Yes, sadly times do change. I don't want to lose her. I really don't.

I love you Priscilla.

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