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To a Pretend Father,

I want to introduce you to someone you do not know. For the daughter you had died in 2003 when her mind shattered as easily as a sheet of glass, some shards bigger some smaller.

I have memories from when I was younger, I have memories from growing up and I have the horror memories of things a child should never have to bear. I will share them all with you in this letter, that you may never even see but was cathartic to write.

I was gifted high intelligence, a great imagination, and a disease that waited in hiding to find the right place to make itself known to the world.

I have never forgotten what you did for me, how I was raised with your love and your desire. That I was the apple of your eye for as long as I can remember, but when I started getting sick you had long since been gone from my life in that majority. You put your new family ahead of your old whether you realized it or not. You top shelved me when I became less than what you desired.

I can remember many things, things as far back as being 3 or 4 years old. I can remember the good things, I can recall the love and the devotion you carried for me. I can remember that I was your pride and joy, your first born, your blood. Your daughter. You were eighteen and a half when I was born. You worked for the mine in san manuel and we lived in a trailer there. I was born here in Tucson at St. joseph's hospital and it is where you first saw me, and fell in love with me your daughter.

I was named Christy Lynne Taylor, and from what I was led to believe it was for my mother and my uncle's middle names that I received my name.

I remember spending lots of time with Papa even when I was still young, I remember Oracle and living there just you and me and mom, I remember my trip to Tennessee when I was just a young thing with mom and grandma and grandpa Tibbs.

But I recall doing much with Papa and grandma Taylor too. I remember spending time with my cousins, growing up with them and torturing each other as kids do.

I remember Jamie Peck and her family and I recall the different places she lived with her family.

I remember the dirt trials that you did on your motorcycle, and the many places you used to take me on your bike, add how you doted on me.

I remember the trips to california with you and mom and grandparents tibbs. I remember the camping trips, the day trips, all the different places we went and how you spent all the time with me you could.

I remember the love you gave me and how you taught me to love, and how to be loved, and how when my sister came into being that all changed.

I remember sleeping in your bed with you, I remember the games we played with bebe and bandit.

I remember when we used to go to the cave in pepersauce canyon when you could still just walk into it and how you scared me when you went in and did not come out for a long while. I remember alot of things we did in the canyon, and the places we used to go and how you used to do for me.

Mostly I remember being very loved and a beacon in your life. I have never forgotten that. I have never forgotten being your little girl that you showed off proudly to the world.

But I remember that bad that you would never know about and the some you knew about.

I remmember the abuse from my mother, and how she kept me down, and put me in my place because of how she was. I don't have loving memories from my mother. But I remember her always being gone, and the drinking, and the drugs.

I remember wanting my mother, wanting a mom like all my friends had. I remember wanting to be normal. I remember not long after Amanda was born and my reactions to my baby sister and the devotion to me being split I began to get extremely hateful and dangerous.

I remember Amanda screaming for hours and hours.

I remember your working hard to give us what little we had, and even in that I was happy, I didnt know what poor was. I didn't know what poor was until much later and I realized why I was teased, and the kids were so cruel to me. I realized how different my life was compared to how you saw it. What you remember, and what I went through while you were not there.

I had a two faced life and I don't want to put blame on it. I didn't ask to be born into a family like I was. Where on one side I was very loved and cherished, and on the other I was abused in so many ways, some you saw. I know there are and were people worse off in the world.

I understand now just how sick my mother was and that she self medicated to help her condition rather than getting the help she too needed.

I recall my abusive potty training that led to the panty hiding, that resulted in hours standing with my nose in the corner with wet panties on my head.

I recall being beaten with all sorts of things. Child abuse is not a laughing matter, and the dark side you did not see was bad on your part, you were blind to much of the abuse. Shoes, Belts, fly swatters, hands, anything heavy enough to be picked up but not break.

On one hand as a small child I was given the world, unquestioned love and devotion, and like a breath it was always ripped away. Things thrown away, things changed. To this day I don't know why I was put in counseling as a child, but I remember going to those sessions. The lady was kind and asked so many questions while I got to play with toys.

But it wasn't long before I discovered that lying about things in my life was easier than admitting the truth and thus became one of my greatest defenses. If I didn't talk about it, it didnt happen and if it didn't happen I'd be left alone.

I acted out as a child because its what I knew, because its how mom taught me to be because you were always working or sleeping. But that was how it was. You had two daughters to provide for.

When everything started happening before the divorce I often felt left behind and that it was alll my fault. All the arguing I heard always held my name Or was because of something I had done or not done. The days of being your angel were gone.

I didnt smile often, when I did it was forced, all ready learning to wear a mask to get people to not ask questions had begun.

Mom had started going to school and things got more stuff for us. When she was working there was day care across town in the mornings, there were the times that Jennifer Byrd babysat me and amanda and scotty and Jamie and Justin. Charlie and John were home schooled to and did things around their land.

But while you think everything was hunky dory on the days you picked us up to bring us home or to visit you when you first started living with Mary it was far from okay. John molested myself and Jamie and put the fear of retribution into myself at least. He taught me how to french kiss and the lessons moved on to giving him oral satisfaction. I was just a kid but knowing it was wrong and just keeping him happy as he threatened to hurt Amanda if I didn't listen kept me afraid. I didnt tell you or mom or anyone because I was embarrassed and scared for my little sister and for myself as I had learned by mom that not listening could be quite painful. So it went untold and life moved on.

Gone where the days of childhood. gone were the days of innocence. Gone were the days of flushing a box of q-tips down the toilet then getting my head smashed into the table, or stepping on rusted nails in the dark chasing uriah. Gone were the days of getting my head smacked into the piano asleep in your arms. Gone were the days of being a perfect being in your eyes.

I liked Mary, she was nice and kind, and she taught me to smile. But I was confused and hurt suddenly I didn't have just a mom, I had a mom and a mom to be.

Mom delved so far into drugs and alcohol I wanted so far away from her to quit being hurt and yet you wouldn't do it and I was tortured simply because I resembled you. How can you torture a child simply because they look like someone is beyond me but she did. I was forever known as the one thaqt ruined your lives by being conceived.

While you and Mary built your life mine was falling apart. Traveling to your house every other weekend and summers became torture to me. It left me with little to no friends because I wasn't around often enough to do friend things and it made me a freak. Your upset about that summer I chose to stay in Kearny, that summer I actually had friends and did kid things rather than being trapped in the condo or day care with people I didn't see otherwise or outside of. I didnt mean to hurt you when I did that but I wanted to see if I could live a summer without being a freak and keep a friend or two.

I was talked about and tortured in school because I was so weird, so strange and was never around. But i gave you all my love, and yet it felt so false. Like I was a trophy to be shown off rather than the daughter I once was.

Then Mary had Will and you had your son and I felt even more stored away weatheer that was your desire or not but it is how you left me to feel. Your actions and reactions led me to feel jealous of my brother.

Don't get me wrong I loved my brother more than anything in the world. He is my brother and its not his fault I was left to feel the way I felt. I loved showing him off because having a kid brother was cool and I had always wanted one.

But the moree things went around the more and more things changed for me. Amanda was young enough it wasn't so different for her, but I was 11 and my all ready rock hard life, despite your glorious, almost omnipotent feel on how my life was tended to give it an even less meaning. Granted you showed up to all my band concerts, and things that I had to support me, left me aching.

I was put in therapy once again because there was obviously help that was needed. So I went and was getting some where.

I remember how you always had to have fried eggs from breakfast, but the oil from the eggs made me sick and you got in my face angry and mad and raised voice taking me down notch after notch until I was falling apart then you pulled back and asked me what I wanted for breakfast and to shut you and Mary up I gave in and said fried eggs and you just laughed in my face when all I wanted was for you to quit yelling at me and scaring me. To this day I can not stand fried eggs.

Therapy was going well and it was helping until it stopped cause school stopped. All good things that could have helped catch what was happening to me early were stopped.

High school was getting rough and I wanted a better school to get a better chance of college. I wanted a good future and to secure things. But I was all ready beginning to have manic episodes I didnt know what they were then, but now I do. I had been hearing voices probably since I was about 16 after a friends cousin pressed his luck with trying to get in my pants the night of my birthday party. Needless to sat my friends showed more care at sticking up for me then you were at that point. Though you were doing the world of things for your son.

I moved in with you in the new house and had a job because I knew I was going to have to pay for my own things. Just with how I'd been treated I was left to feel as though I was a phase leaving your life. I only had a few voices in those days and they were highly negative.

I came to you all ready cutting myself, something when they were visible I was able to pass off as cat scratches, the one that led to the school wanting counseling to get involved still carries a scar in the folds of my wrist.

I had a piano, music was my life but I was not allowed to play when you were home which left me no time to play at all and my piano became a dust magnet and collection for works of art.

Mary had gone on with me about her friend knowing a counselor I could see and so I told the school that and after the second meeting with my suicidal idealizations because of thingsin my life, it was raining that day and when I got home you were all ready home and you met me in the carport and you had your hands up in the rafters and you told me that I needed to quit my shit and that mental illness did not exist and that it was an excuse and suicide was a cry for attention.

Well believe what you will I know whats wrong with me, I know how I feel, and even today if I could make it all stop for even an hour I would be the happiest person in the world. You aren't in my head you don't know what I live with and hear day after day. Or what they say. Or what it drives my body to seek and find to sate their deamon selves. You don't know what I have been through not even at this point.

I am mearly the person that ripped your family apart. Well you forget one major deal. it was MY family that got ripped apart and after finding out how ill I wass and knowing your view on mental illness, and after what transpired between you and I after a bottle of wine I didn't want your precious granddaughter in your care. Not with after how I was treated.

I tried to kill myself 3 times living under your roof. THREE times.

The first time I swallowed a brand new bottle of frys brand aspirin ten tablets at a time. I came home from a crappy day at school, a bad night at work and was tired of it all and took that bottle of aspirin, took my shower and went to bed, VERY pissed that I woke up the next morning I had a ringing in my ears, my world was sideways and I was ready to puke at any moment, but I got myself ready for school and took myself to school. even feeling the way I did I faught to try and make it through class, instead I ended up at the nurse and passed it off as the flu, Mary came and got me and I slept it off the weekend doing god knows what damage to my organs.

The second time I tried to kill myself I figured I would try and slit my wrist and got deep but noit to deep before the pain got to much and I sobbed for the weekend because I was such a failure I could not even kill myself to end the torture that was my life.

By that point Manic highs were taking a good toll on me too. Uppity without the drugs, emotional slides. I toook myself to get on the pill hoping that the hormones would help me lose weight, clear up my acne, and get my hormones under control. That I was chosing to have sex had nothing to do with that choice and the pill only made me more aggressive and dangerous and so I ahd to stop.

The third time I tried to kill myself I took pills again, this time a mix and match from the medicine cabnets, hoping the cocktail would work better, but it didn't and I ended up puking all of it up before it could do much to me and I gave up suicide for awhile.

I started college and I loved it but the voices and mood swings, the manic cycles were getting worse and worse for me. Marching band was my outlet,my art was my outlet, but I was becoming uncontrollable and I needed help but after your talk in the carport there was no way in hell I was going to tell you I was hearing voices.

I went to washington DC to meet Spencer, and I think it was the meeting me with a dozen roses and a portfolio of the next ten years of our lives together that sent me into a vicious spiral down and I hit that cushion of rock bottom in fear and non-understanding. I came home and went back to school where I met Paul on campus. I assumed he was a student as he hung out with the skater kids on the university mall, kids I tended to drive toward along with the goth kids as I was gothic.

I started staying with him and found myself sleeping under the bridge by the old TEP building on main street where it merges with st MAry's, behind the old business that said ASH on the side of the building, and in drainage tunnels with my new friends, the voices were bad, but Iwas getting used to them and I didn't want to go home, so I stayed with PAul. His taking over my life was easy as I am a subservient type and he was highly dominate.

The night I called and told you I was married and not coming home I was sitting inthe arizona motel on south 6th just off I-10. We were working for that carnival and my manic upswings were getting worse and Paul was finding it easier and easier to dig into me the more dominate the easier he held on. My subservience coming from all the abuse from mom and granny.

He had me living still in places outside and with strangers and strange places. All ready to afraid to admit where I called home, what I was doing and what was happening. Paul had a hold of my life and was guiding a very sick woman. I will not put it all on Paul I should have taken myself for help somewhere. But I didn't understand what was going on in my head.'

I thought I loved Paul, and you and Mary seemed to like him, only grandpa Tibbs seemed to see through his charade. He took me to the court house and we filed for marriage. I missed great-grandmother's funeral because he wouldn't let me come home and soon enough he had me believing we had to go to texas and I saw so much in texas so many cities, met so many people. It was amazing. But in the manic swing that helped send me there I was coming down into a low, one of my bad lows and the cat had me in his claws and I was terrified of him, by that point I was starting to think I was pregnant but didn't know as my period was never regular. Not that you care about that part.

Many phone calls for money and a refusal to let me go home or to call without purpose and if I called he had to be right there to hear the conversation I again became stellar at the lying bit to keep him from raging and to keep you from knowing something was wrong.

We eventually got back to arizona for Easter and by then I was sure I was pregnant but he wouldn't let me get tested. Finally I got to take a test and got the positive result and got a doctor. He had a job for now helping build buildings for some company after grandpa threatened to throw him out and separate him from me. I was scared and at that point Paul had me believing everything in the world. I was foolish sick and it didn't matter anymore.

By August his good luck ran out with keeping a job and he had sold the car even after I said no and we moved on to the piece of crap he thought to replace it rather than getting it fixed. HE ended up in phoenix and when he demanded I come I got ready and grandma drove me to superior where he had a friend with him to help pick me up and granny even told me if I didn't want to go I didnt have to. But no one understood I had to go.

He had me living in a car, and then bouncing me around in and out of hotels. It was horrible but as my belly grew my love for my baby grew and it kept him from harming me. We ended up back in Tucson after him scamming granny out of money again too.

We ended up back in Tucson and our little apartment. Still afraid of him. He would lock me in the closet when he dindt deal with me, he changed the locks on the doors so they had to be opened by key inside and out and he kept a caller id box on the line and if he didnt recognize a caller I got it. he just knew I was cheating on him.

I had Rolland and his claws were in completely. Especially once he found out I gave him a sick baby and he guilted me badly time and time again and I spent time in the hospital watching over my baby praying he'd get better.

After we found out at 3 months he needed emergency surgery, he waited with us to find out he was going to be okay, we saw him those first minutes and we went home and he left for work and dint come back and I went back to the hospital to sit with my baby and take care of him and thats when I called you when I had figured out he had left us. I was so relieved and still so very scared at the same time. Granny came down to help out and you helped and I was so sick and no one realized it and I was used to it. Used to my weird highs and over and excessive happiness and low lows where I didn't want to do anything, and my voices were becoming more and more. Until it was mass confusion in my head.

I had to get rid of my dog because he was impossible to take care of myself. I ahd enough of a problem taking care of my baby and myself at that point. PAul came back a few weeks later not saying where he had been and I will never know. But I locked him out of the house, we had changed the locks and I took the baby into the tub to bathe him and had my knees up and he was at my feet in just a little bit of water and Paul lifted up the window and pushed it in nearly knocking me out and the glass hit my knees stopping it from hurting the baby and I ended up with stitches.

After yelling and screaming at me for a good amount of time he got over himself until he found out Rodeo was gone and then I got it. Embarrassed once again and afraid I told no one, even when they ask you the question at the hospital if your in danger etc he was right there so I had to say no.

I headed I got better and you all got the excuse that I stood up into the cabinet door.

Another moment I thought I was going to lose my life I was so mad at Paul I put Rolland in the front carrier I had and headed out of the complex past a friend that lived in the corner and he followed me trying to get me to answer if I was running and why and he stood up to Paul and I had to beg them in tears not to fight as I was dragged back to the apartment.

He shoved me down and I fell on a picture frame in the floor and cut myself badly on my leg and he took me to a different hospital that again got a no to the in danger question and they sutured my leg and sent me on my way home and no one knew about that one because it was hidden under my pants.

Under demand that he get a job he left for a while and I was able to clean the house again and have freedom while I took care of my son. He was gone for June and came back in July. July 13, 1998 Was the last time I slept with Paul and the night Sedona was conceived and it was not consensual he forced himself upon me telling me the whole time it was my wifely duty to submit to him.

Not long after that He rented a moving truck and loaded our apartment up into it and drug me to Payson with promise that he had a job and we had a place to live, so we lived in the campgrounds a few days before he moved us into a motel. we stayed there a few days and he kissed my head like always telling me he was going to work and I asked him to pick up formula for the baby and he left us in that hotel and left us. He abandoned us in that hotel and I waited three days feeding my son what I had to offer him using the last of his formula and I gave in and I called granny I didnt neeed you to know I failed as a wife and mother again.

Granny's best friend lived in Payson and she and her husband came and got us and took me to the store to get what I needed and we got settled in and we stayed there one night while mom and granny drove up there to get us and brought us home, grandpa was so mad I had to stay at the GKI and we got a room and that is where Rolland and I lived and the voices were telling me I was pregnant and I didn't believe them.

I tried to resume a semi normal voice thinking I was finally safe from Paul and then in August the calls started coming in and he was threatening and demanding and told me if I did not come to him he would come down and make sure that he got the baby and I would never see him again that I let my fear guide me and I went to Colorado.

In colorado he had me living in a house for people off the street, in a motel, and the night that happened that had me call you I was sitting in a chair in front of the doorway and Rolland was sitting on the bed and we were playing and the door opened and it was hit and Rollands eyes got big and he was a so happy to see his dad and then his arm was around my neck and chocking me and I couldn't get him off and couldn't make a sound, a fellow person heard the baby screaming and called the cops and he put me in the bathroom and talked to them and they went away and when he left I called you and told you not to ask why but that I had to come home. Now you know why.

I became little more than your live in maid when I needed your love and care its all I was and when you told me you stood for Mary and she came first nd foremost I knew then that you no longer held love or care for me.

I was so sick and was treated as a criminal and not as your daughter when I needed a father and family I was denied both.

When I tried to survive on my own my subservience and need of a dominate figure in my life and my lack of skills because of my illness made things hard on me. Rolland and Sedona suffered badly because of it especially when I hit the lowest low I had ever been a part of. There is a cushion at the bottom of rock bottom most people hit and get out of with help. I fell through that cloud cover and hit the rocks and my friend I go and see in minnesota every year picked me up off those rocks and helped nurse me back to some point of reality and I began cutting again.

I would cut my left arm to hell and back, let it begin to heal and reopen everything again and again Until CPS told me to seek help or else and I went to SAMHC with fresh cuts on my arms, a suicidal/self harm reach for help and they gave me someone to talk to and sent me home didnt even put me ina crisis bed. The road to my help was rocky and painful and I was not getting the help I needed. After my bad experience with samhc I tried one more time during the day the cuts finallly healing after the massacre of my arm and saw a psychiatrist who immediately put me in a program and labeled me smi bipolar type 2. I was immediately put on depakote and it helped my moods and I gained nearly 100lbs.

When I was done with their program I was transferred to Codac where I saw a doctor once, did not receive a case manager to help and the pharmacy refused to fill my prescription and when I called codac I got no help what so ever and slipped back into a suicidal depression with my children removed a second time, It was believed I was on drugs by my family members I was told and after fear of dealing with you and your retribution I went to stay with amanda a few days.

I went to palo verde where I was checked in immediately and started treatment for severe type 2 bipolar disorder and because I was transferred to palo verde was moved to their hospital and was seen there until I was released wed morning and the altercation I feared happened in the parking lot were you verbally accosted me in front of amanda just hours after I had been released from a mental hospital.

Needless to say my fear and hatred of you only grew more and more. You called and Iwent to the hospital, beat you there by bus on a saturday to wait watch with papa like the rest orf the family and when I wanted to go back to the hospital you took me home where I got the call he passed away.

Do you remember the funeral? I do and I was sad that no one not even you stood up to say anything about my proud and well achieving grandfather that did sovery much inhis life from building houses to working for the mine raised you and your siblings and so much more. Then when it came time for condolences you stood beside Mary and Will and did the introductions, "This is Mary my wife and my son Will." and said nothing about myself nor Amanda which tore me to pieces that you were not even recognizing myself let alone my sister, I was a mess. One of Kevin's son's and I were the last to go to the coffin. Papa was my grandfather but he had a hand in raising me alot as my years went by, Aunt Nancy, Grandma and Papa did a lot of raising me. Stories, staying the night, picking me up from school when sick, taking care of me going grocery shopping with them. Until mom could get clean enough or clear enough to come and get me.

My papa died and I was down to two people that embraced me illness and all. My grandmother Tibbs, and my mother making her retribution embraced me and tried to learn about my medical issues and help me in anyway they could.

I've sent you to websites. I've given you names. I've sent you info to places that could help you learn about me. But alas you have done nothing. NOTHING. I guess I am as feared top shelfed, collecting dust as the broken toy, the worthless first child from a mad woman that collected a disease from her.

I fight day to day life, rent, bills, doctors appointments, Probation appointments, attempting to make three meals a day, exercising, staying on medication regime and left with the voices the ups and downs and playing ring around the dosage chart. There is no fixing me, there is no cure for what I have. there is no guaranteed medications. As I am writing this I am awake at 430 in the morning. I've been writing for 5 hours. I'm not ready to sleep as I am in a manic upswing, and I ahve voices in my head screaming. The music doesn't get loud enough to mask them out anymore, and I am starting to see things again and its getting harder and I know I am going to end up back in the hospital.

They are cutting back on Kevin's hours again, even at 10 dollars an hour his checks barley pay the bills and keep a meal sometimes two on the table. My SSD barely pays the rent, and the co-pays for all my medications and treatment needs for my diabetes, thyroid, and stomach. I have accepted the fact that I am going to die, the only question is when.

I'm through 4.5 years of 9 years of probation. I am trying to get well enough to go to the judge and get the rest of my probation forgiven. But two years of hospitalizations, medication changees, and its not looking good.

I am too proud to ask for any help. I have given up on you as my father. You gave up on me, and what ever is said and done you have to live with the fact that you could have helped catch this before it got so bad. You have to deal with the fact that you turned your back on your litte girl and that she is the monster she has become with no thanks to you.

I will continue fighting my fight day by day and pray to god that each day a bill won't be to high, or that something else won't pop up in the mail that needs paying. I am still paying on some of the bills from when my kidney's shut down and I spent two weeks in the hospital in Minnesota. I can't work. I've tried and tried. I worked for all that time from july 93 until I had to quit the theatre after I got accosted. My grandfathers taught me values.

I can barely leave the house without having a panic attack. Being around people destroy me. I'm so scared and disassociate. But again my disease my problem. I don't want your pity. You turned your cold heart on me along time ago and you didn't give me a chance. Now my brother hates me to and has turned away from me to. I have something that will never go away. Ever. IT can be masked with drugs but I will never EVER be normal or well again. Just stable or unstable. When you can accept that you can feel free to try and contact me. In the mean time you can chew on the idea that I am still that baby you had 32 years ago. That I never left. You changed. You became the monster with two good children and one that you can't even look at.

Your Loving Monster,

Who are you? Who am I?

Help me....
I'm inprisoned in a body,
it refuses to let me go.
I reach, I grab, I scream,
You shake me it was all a dream.

Who are you?
Who am I?
What are we going to learn?

Help me!!!
The silver closes around my wrists.
Help me!!!
Tucked into a car that reads: "To Protect and Serve."

Who are you?
Who am I?
What are we going to find?

Help me!!!
Shoved into a single room.
Turned, and stared at,
Every blimish, every scar....
tucked away in a file.

Who are you?
Who am I?
What are you looking for?

Help Me!!!
Dredging past.
A pain you never realized you caused.

Who are you?
Who am I?
Where is all this blood coming from?

Help Me!!!
Is it to late to say I care?
Is it to late to say I want to be here...

Who are you?
Who am I?
I just want to be heard.

Ten Things About Me

Reply to this with ten things you want to know about me. Anything you care to know and I will answer truthfully.

Bad News

My support system is dying....  My Psychiatrist, My case manager, My friend, My Shrink they are all leaving at the end of the month and I get all brand new people.. Oh and my friend Pennie is so sick she' sin hospital!

I spiraled....
I binged on sweet and fatty
I bought razor blades

I hurt, I'm numb, Cut...

I hurt myself today
to see if I still feel.
The needle tears a hole,
the only thing thats real.

5 meme

5 Meme...
Five things found in my bag
Well being a girlie I have a well stocked bag with me at all time.
- camera
- Atrack3 player
- Carmex
- composition book
- pens of the rainbow

Five things found in my purse
- Coupons
- LotR Tarot
- Music CD's
- Mexican Money
- Gothic Crucifix

Five favourite things in my room
- Matress on the Floor
- Books
- Clothes
- candles
- Inscence

Five things I have always wanted to do
- Spend more time at Renn Fests re-inactments
- Married
- forever clean
- travel to all my friends houses.
- be more magical and artistic

Five things I'm currently into
- Magic
- Hot Topic
- Music
- Stardust & Golden Compass
- My Fiance

Gacked from </a></a>_hedgewytch_


Normaly I tell people to sod off and kiss my grits when they start in on me and my scars and oh the terrible sin suicide is.  So let me clarify a few things.

Yes I am Mentally ill.  I am a schizophrenic.  Paranoid variety.  The Special Care floor of Regions Hospital up in St. Paul Minnesota found that out after I had a few rounds of dialysis (for those that don't know that cleans all the ickky's otu of your blood like your kidney's are supposed to do, I was in acute kidney failur at the time)  So by by to my miracle drug.  I paced up and down, ripped the catheter out of my neck, ripped out my IV's threw things at the nurses, yelled, screamed, paced, tried to leave, was very agitated, here in my home state I would have been soft cuffed to my bed but apparently Regions Hospital doesn't believe in that kind of stuff. I had full out hallucinations IE) The tile was talking to me kinda like a scrabble board or crossword....  I was seeing stuff, I swear the room was moving, everything was changing evrey so often, and I was seeign things that weren;t there.  My best friend I tore apart in thos paranoid stte, igonring her, yelling at her, just all in all I didn't know who I was, I didnt kow who she was but the two cats with her I knew and were talking to just fine.  PEople were out to get nme, to exploit and hurt me..I have never been so afraid in my life.  The voices were hurtful, painful, ripping my heart to shreds, makign me cry.  Riling up my PTSD.   By the tiem they got me back on my seroquel (After ignoring my friend who TOLD them I was schizo, talking to my psychiatrist, my nurse, my caseworker, my doctor..  everyone they go "oh we should put her back on the seroquel"  Yes I realize Seroquel doesn't work for a lot of people but at 800mg a day I have no voices, no hallucinations, and no paranoia.

Yes I realize I have scars, yes I realize that...  I did walk into a mental health help hospital with around 500 cuts from wrist to elbow.  My deep scars from my trying to take my life in high school....  I'm 30 now adn not proud of my past...  but it is life and it is what it is.


HAppity Early Birthday to you!!!!


Okay don't know if anyone notice my MIA, or anything...  Just really depressed, really sad, and in a lot of pain.  I plan on writting more frequently now that I am kinda coming out of it....

Anah Rose 

Christmas Cards

Yes Early post but far necessary or they won't get sent and I'll feel horrid.

If your on my list and want a christmas card please leave me a reply messages are screened so no one else will see the important details!



Stronger than you will ever know
A Beautiful Lie

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March 2009


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