Have to be taken out of school.
Got birth control from a female doctor, and it slipped out about my sexual abuse, when she mentioned abuse. I'm such an idiot. Such an attention whore. I accidentally said "rape". To me-it feels like rape. But technically, it wasn't.
My mom thinks my dad on me is an accident. "Sweetie, he was sleeping and thought you were me." What?
When we had a blow up about those…times….I guess my dad never admitted the fact that he did it intentionally, while completely conscious.
Or my mom's denying the possibility that her husband would so such a thing.
Our family isn't one of THOSE families, "God forbid" it be.
Have to talk to the court about it tomorrow. It's on legal record. I want to escape. Run away or disappear.
With school back, the drugs are back.
I once read this online blog-this guy who supports suicide was trying to slowly kill himself with alcohol, sex, and cigarettes. The narrator dryly stated about how he was still alive, today-but still hoping for that slow suicide. Or something along the lines of that.
Texas messed up everything.
No, we were messed up from the beginning.
Texas just represents the time that pushed the memories and events along.
Texas represents the disgusting, fleeting time that will never come back. The disgusting, fleeting time that keeps on going.
So . . .
Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears
Sing with me, if it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good lord will take you away