My Diary to You

Chapter 1

Today is August 13th 2015. I'm starting this diary so that when the day comes and I am gone, you will know why. You will finally listen and hopefully understand. Hopefully you won't ride me off as dramatic or weak like you do now... So here goes nothing

I feel hollow lately. As if my feelings are not real... Grandma called it dissociating last night. She said I was dissociating and that meant I was becoming numb because I am stressed and hurt. She seems to be the only one who listens really but you don't let me talk to her. You say she is toxic and crazy but I realized yesterday in the commotion of things that she isn't the one who is toxic. She may be a little crazy or even a lot but she isn't the toxic one. She works on herself and has been for years. She pays for her therapy and makes sure she thinks things through. She tries her hardest to do what's right. It made sense yesterday why you keep putting this horrible image in my head of a women who "carried you half dead at five to a hiding space", who "knew you were being molested", who "let you be beaten"... I've always known that that wasn't Grandma, at least not who she is now. Yet you made me doubt myself. You got into my head and made me feel crazy and wrong. I'm not wrong though. You are and you can't stand being wrong. That's why you make me feel wrong because if I think I'm wrong then you can easily make me think you are right and as long as we think you are right then you're not wrong. That's why you try to make grandma look bad and keep her away. She lets us know that how you raise us and how you are is not right. That you need help. She listens to us and lets us know when you are wrong and trying to make us feel crazy. We listen to her because we know she is right about you. She raised you and partially us. She knows how you are because she dealt with you for so long. You can't make her think she is wrong because she sees right through what you are doing and that's why you hate her, because you don't have control over her and you can't trick her into thinking you are right. You hate her because she makes it hard for you to trick us, your kids. You are mentally sick. What's sad is that you know you are and you don't get help. You enjoy being the conniving and manipulative power freak you are. You think you could be dying and I know you are serious because you have ulcerating tumors on your body that I've seen for myself. Yet, you refuse to get help because you wouldn't have the attention you get or the excuse you have if you got better. 

What makes me most mad about you is that you think you can be mean and rude with no respect to anyone and they still have to respect you. That is what pisses me off. You treat me so horribly and when I tell you how I feel, you say I'm disrespecting you. But I have no respect for you anymore. You've lost it. Any chance you had of getting it back disappeared yesterday when you said you wish you never had me and handed me off to my dad. Yesterday when you got mad at me for giving you attitude for accusing me of letting your boyfriend take advantage of me sexually. You wouldn't believe me when I told you that didn't happen. I would never do that especially when I'm sixteen and he is almost sixty but you think I am such a slut that I'd do stuff with your boyfriend. You don't have any reason to think I am slutty yet you do. You tear me apart and destroy my self esteem and as strong as I am, as much as I tell myself that I don't care and as dissociating as I've become, somehow your words and view point of me still effect me. But I guess I should start from the beginning in case someone else reads this, they will know how it all started.