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Monday, April 30, 2007


Down in flames.......
Every day i lose another piece of myself. I feel it slipping away and i can not stop it. All i can do is mourn it's loss and pull myself back together the best i can. No one but the dead can truly understand what i am going through. I swore myself to this and i am going to go through with it. On my own. Funny how i look at myself and i see how i am beyond anyone's help. There was once a time when i would have screamed untill my voice was gone, for help. But that time has long passed. For six years of my life, i screamed for help but, no one heard me. I screamed and i screamed and i screamed until there was nothing else i could do. No one answered. No one came to my rescue. Six birthday wishes i wasted on wishing i could get out of the Hell i was in. I got out after nearly eleven years, only to land in a new kind of Hell. The kind that slowly drains everything that you are. The kind that makes you lie awake at night and clench the side of your bed because the pain hurts so. The thing broken inside of me can never be fixed. I won't let it. It's what makes me who i am. If i had been anyone else, i would not have made it this far. Yet i can not help wishing that i had a different life. Can not help wishing maybe if i was a little prettier, maybe if i was a little different? But i know these dreams will never become reality. Because deep down, i will always be me. Kristen Rene' Bristow. Krissy. Daughter to a neglective mother, sibling to an oblivious sister, daughter to an abusive father. Yeah, i know. "Don't let the past make you who you are." That's bullshit, pardon my French, but your past makes EXACTLY who you are. It shapes, and molds, and forms you into your very being. The minute i hear someone say something like that, i want to smack them in the face. Lies. That's what they are spewing from their mouths. Lies. They may think that what they say is the truth but, i am willing to bet that the people who say that, are the ones who have lead any easy life. "Leave it to Beaver" family, lots of money, and graduated from Havard with a degree in underwater basket weaving/Psychology. Normal humans amaze me. You know what i mean by normal, by now. No, i wasn't locked in a closet. To my step-dad, i was a slave to be stepped upon and beat. To everyone else, we were a perfect family with one black-sheep child. The child that everything was blamed on. The scape-goat, if you will. And that is what created the monster they regret giving birth to. But they'll never understand. All this monster wanted was for someone to love them. Someone to acknowledge them as a normal human. Someone to see past the shrieks of rage to the screams of pain underneath.
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