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Feb. 22nd, 2011 01:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lucoThe 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.
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-24 12:25 am (UTC)I don't want to hear you call yourself disgusting, because you AREN'T. You're going through a lot of bad shit, anyone would be in pieces by now and having your mental problems doesn't help. You are the strongest person I know and one of the most loving too. Everybody hates and everyone feels rage, whether want to admit it or not. I don't believe that anyone who can survive as much as you, love as much as you, and create such beautiful things like you do can ever be disgusting. You're a beautiful person, I fully and completely believe that.
Please please don't hurt yourself or do anything else you'll regret. Because everyone has things that make them want to break down and cry and you really don't understand how strong you are because you keep going because some people would have given up. A lot of people in fact.
And even though you're scared of yourself you know what? I'm not scared of you, if I was there I would hand you a knife and hug you because I know who you are. And believe me I don't see anything scary about you.
I'll say again it does get better and it will. I love you *hugs and spoils as much as I can*
PS- Your package is in the mail, I forgot to put a note in the package to please don't eat out of the Rain bowl, the glaze came out funny and I'm pretty sure it'd be bad to eat out of. If you need to talk send me a note or email telling me how you want me to get in contact and when and I'll do it. Also if you know any sort of story that would cheer you up you can ask me to write it, I really really don't mind. *hugs* Love you so much Luco, I really do.