if you read this please don't think poorly of me. if i don't let it out, it will destroy me. if violence disturbs you, please don't read this. i don't want anyone else to feel bad.

as a bit of background info, the reason i hate my monster of a father is because i had a lot of trouble in my teens. an older boy – call him eric – i met through my cousin (incidentally the same one who introduced me to matt) started stalking me when i was 14. he'd follow me to school, to the park, to my friends houses. he used to send letters to me, funny phone calls, that kind of thing.one time it went too far. i won't say what he did graphically, but it wasn't once…he became a sort of monster figure to me, and i was too scared to tell.

i had just turned fifteen when i found out i was pregnant. eric flipped out…i remember not long after my birthday he caught up with me outside our local shop and dragged me into his car…again i'd rather not go into detail, but suffice to say i lost my child.(this has had an effect in the present – my bf and i were blessed with a pregnancy late last year, but as a direct result of eric and my past,i didn't carry full term)

i say this so you know i don't approve…it makes me sick to my stomach.

like i've said, i can cope with the violent thoughts – sometimes, anyway. but  since jamie died, i have these disgusting sexual thoughts about EVERYONE i get close to. i'm no prude(sticks and stones may  break my bones but whips and chains excite me…lol), but they're too much. nothing makes them go away. they can be about the guy next to me on the bus – or girl, in fact they dont even have to attractive – or a member of my family, any member. i have no interest in these people, and yet the filth that poisons my mind…i pick and i pick at my skin. the stain is not removed.

the worst example is matt, the surviving brother, the one i can't find. increasingly, these obsessions revolve around him, to the point where the mention of his name ends in permanent scarring. its not that i miss him – before he went away, it was already unbearable. a little more each time, until i didn't even realise how bad the problem was. the thoughts escalate the more i try to get away from them, until eventually he has taken erics place in my mind…if you see what i'm driving at. they're not fantasies – i despise them, despise myself for having them. when i try to ignore them i get my tics, and its gotten to the point where no one really believes its goosebumps. they're too frequent, too dramatic.

am i losing my mind? how long before all is ritual, from sunrise to sunset? how long before bump is gone and, more importantly, what will be left?