21

1983

During that summer before my transfer, I decided to start burying things. The abuse, which still happened, was buried over and over each time it

happened. When George would find a way to touch me, I would wash it away symbolically in the bath. I tried with everything that I had to stay

away from him. I buried the episodes with death A they happened; although death still came and death still spoke in certain ways I perceived in life. I tried so hard to bury those things that I had  encountered as a younger child. I saw it as a strange memory of some sort of make believe friends. I tried to bury that new part of me which seemed to cavort and dance around all silly like. I did not know where it came from but I would hold it in, trapped until the giddy feeling went away. I could not go to the new school with all this baggage. I was a kid, for christs sake, what could become of a child like me if left to her own devices. I wanted to fit in, I wanted to be normal-no, I needed to fit in and I needed to be normal. What I wanted did not matter at this point. I had to fade into the fabric and stop drawing attention to myself. I learned to bind all those things deep within, with thick cord of my conciousness; then I buried them within the pit of my soul.


I remember so much about myself and what I endured. I remember those things which seem so unreal to most of you. The supernatual aspects of my

life or what my mind convinced me there of. I was avoided, neglected, ridiculed and hated for what I was. I find no easy way to go about this

life or to convey to you just how I feel. If you hide what you are then you will feel it push outward wanting release...it will torture you and

you will surely feel trapped/contained. If you give in to what you are, then you are sure to have regrets of some actions and eminently drive

others away by the truth. Because I have found that they do not want the truth. They want the picture painted for them of how it is supposed to

be. There is no right or left, no black or white. I could find normalacy or I could find myself.

I am torn
...and broken

but I will try to give society what it wants...in spite of what it needs.

...and although I would try my hardest to bury those things, they were stubborn. They still came and went as they wished. I was, however; fortunate enough to decrease the episodes.

and appear...to you all...as normal.