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Feb. 22nd, 2011 01:36 pmThe damn bitch of an Executor has been trying to call. We had sent a letter to the lawyer she claimed she had used wanting an update on the status of my belongings and my father's estate.
It seems the lawyer was unaware that he was involved and mom's pretty sure Diane is now panicking. But, she is not a pleasant person. She is vicious and cruel and I know the harm she can do with both fists and words...
...AND she's still holding so many things that mean the world to me. My art, my portfolio, photos and statues and memories.
Just seeing her name show up on the phone made me sick. It was like a switch was thrown and I was back in August, back in that hallway and I know what's inside the door and I hear her yelling and I want to run in and protect everything, protect my father and our memories, but I can't make myself move. I can't make myself take the steps to open that door.
I don't want to see dad like that again.
And then, I hear her screaming and the door is open. She's laughing but nowhere in sight and everything is gone. I don't even have my father's ashes. I've failed. It's empty and people are staring at me. Accusing me.
I've been fighting back tears all morning. Have thrown up everything I've eaten and all I can hear are the voices in my head. Some are trying to be calm and comforting, but most are louder and sadistic. They tell in vivid details all the things I could do to Diane. All the wounds I could inflict, the parts of her body that I could tear out. They laugh as they talk and their ideas become more and more graphic. And at first, I agree with them then, I become horrified with myself that I could ever wish any of that on another living being.
And I've gotten so very close to pulling out a knife and this time it's not simply instinctive, this time I want it. I want to bleed. I want that rush. I want to punish myself and yet at the same time be brought back to reality. I'm fighting it, but there have been so many times today where I'll look down and my nails are digging into my skin, and I'm grinning as I do it. I've cut all my nails down as far as they'll go. I don't want to feel like this!
And I won't go near any of the cats or Puku because I'm honestly afraid I'll hurt them. Am I that weak that I let one little name on a phone bring me to this?! Why? I can't focus, my vision goes blank, the voices keep getting louder...
I'm disgusted and terrified of myself.
Please. Tell me it gets better. Even if you're just lying, please.
It seems the lawyer was unaware that he was involved and mom's pretty sure Diane is now panicking. But, she is not a pleasant person. She is vicious and cruel and I know the harm she can do with both fists and words...
...AND she's still holding so many things that mean the world to me. My art, my portfolio, photos and statues and memories.
Just seeing her name show up on the phone made me sick. It was like a switch was thrown and I was back in August, back in that hallway and I know what's inside the door and I hear her yelling and I want to run in and protect everything, protect my father and our memories, but I can't make myself move. I can't make myself take the steps to open that door.
I don't want to see dad like that again.
And then, I hear her screaming and the door is open. She's laughing but nowhere in sight and everything is gone. I don't even have my father's ashes. I've failed. It's empty and people are staring at me. Accusing me.
I've been fighting back tears all morning. Have thrown up everything I've eaten and all I can hear are the voices in my head. Some are trying to be calm and comforting, but most are louder and sadistic. They tell in vivid details all the things I could do to Diane. All the wounds I could inflict, the parts of her body that I could tear out. They laugh as they talk and their ideas become more and more graphic. And at first, I agree with them then, I become horrified with myself that I could ever wish any of that on another living being.
And I've gotten so very close to pulling out a knife and this time it's not simply instinctive, this time I want it. I want to bleed. I want that rush. I want to punish myself and yet at the same time be brought back to reality. I'm fighting it, but there have been so many times today where I'll look down and my nails are digging into my skin, and I'm grinning as I do it. I've cut all my nails down as far as they'll go. I don't want to feel like this!
And I won't go near any of the cats or Puku because I'm honestly afraid I'll hurt them. Am I that weak that I let one little name on a phone bring me to this?! Why? I can't focus, my vision goes blank, the voices keep getting louder...
I'm disgusted and terrified of myself.
Please. Tell me it gets better. Even if you're just lying, please.
