Cold hands. Cold hands. That phrase triggered all this. It was on TV. I know I heard it there. But I have no idea what was on the TV. I’m typing this right now and I can’t remember what I was watching just a minute ago. Oh God, what is wrong with me?
Once my father found another job, my grandparents were the baby-sitters. Apparently, they loved it. And it seems like my grandfather loved it a bit too much.
I would take a nap in my grandfather’s bed. I chose that bed day after day after day, even though I knew what would happen. Why was I so stupid?
I wasn’t sleeping. He came in the room. The door opened ever so quietly. And he closed it without making a sound. The only thing I could hear was the lock clicking into place. I was pressed up against the wall. I felt safer that way. I was laying on my stomach. I had my mouse with me. He was in my left arm because my right arm was up against the wall. He took my mouse out of my arm. I loved that mouse. So why did he take it away from me?
His hands were so cold. They were under my shirt, on my back. I can feel his hands going all over my torso. He must have been outside shoveling snow. It was cold in the room. I’m so cold right now.
I stayed limp. He thinks I am asleep. I don’t know what would have happened if he knew that I was awake. His hands were so cold. And they are all over me. God, I can feel them on my skin. I’m shivering right now. Why won’t this stop?
He flipped me over so I now I’m laying on my back. My eyes are closed because I don’t want him to know that I was awake. He pulled down my pants. He’s touching me. It’s so gentle. It doesn’t hurt like it does when daddy does it. Why are his hands so cold? I’m cold. He keeps on touching me. Touching me on the inside and on the outside. But it doesn’t hurt. It just feels funny.
And my tummy feels funny too. I feel sort of sick. I just want my mouse back. He can do anything he wants to me. But why did he have to take my mouse? I hope he gives it back to me.
I’m so cold now. All the cold from his hands went inside of me. I’m shivering. I think he knows I’m awake. I can feel this scratching inside of me. Now it hurts really bad. It hurts just like when daddy does it. Why did he have to hurt me? I must have done something really wrong. I must have been really bad. But I can’t remember what I did. Please make it stop.
What the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden. This time I found myself downstairs in the basement logged into my account on my brother’s computer typing away crazily. I was watching TV before that, sitting on the futon/couch in my room. And I have no idea what I was watching. And to top it off, the TV was tuned to a non-existent station when I turned it back on, so I can’t even look at the TV Guide and figure out what I was watching. Well actually I did look at the TV Guide and nothing is jumping out at me. There were a number of show I could have been watching at the time.
Am I completely losing my mind? Am I seriously going stark raving mad?
All I can think about right now is killing myself. I know my therapist told me to call if things got really rough, but I can’t. I just can’t even say these things out loud right now. But I need to get them outside of myself which is why I’m posting this. So fuck…
I’m tired. So fucking tired. I want to cry, but the tears won’t come. I feel so sick, but I can’t throw up. I feel like I’m going to crawl right out of my skin, and I just can’t calm down. I’ve got an entire bottle of Ativan from when I was taking meds before. So why not just down the whole bloody thing? What is the point in living?