i'm naked inside my fear
the naked truth.


April 20, 2004 | 9:11 pm
i'm staring at this blank space and i can't think of what to write. i need to write, though, regulary. more than i am now. i just feel like more often than not i have nothing important to say.

which i've decided doesn't matter. through writing i will heal, and i need to heal. my apologies ahead of time for not having much profound to say.

when i was seven or eight a group of teenagers threw a brick out of a window at a woman in a car. it broke through her windsheild and hit her in the head and killed her. it was all over the news at 5:00 and i remember talking with my mother about who would do such a thing.

and i'm not sure what drove me, but i was certain after that day that while i was asleep, someone would throw a brick through my bedroom window and hit me in the head and i would die. i was certain this would happen. this is, of course, completely illogical, as i rested my head in a room on the second story. besides, hadn't i twisted the story some? of course it was easy to throw a brick out of a second-story window and hit someone down below and kill them. those kids were probably just being destructive -- i seriously doubt they intended to murder the woman. an act like the one i was sure would happen to me would have to be intended, though. i don't think i thought about that. i didn't think that someone would have to seriously plan to know at what angle my bed was and whatnot to throw the brick and hit me.

i lost sleep at night.

i used to lie in bed and try to stay awake for a few minutes after my mother put me to sleep because i was scared that if i fell asleep, someone would come in the middle of the night and chop my feet off. they wouldn't throw the axe in the middle of my body, rather, they would go for the bottom of the bed. that way, when i tried to get up, i would have no feet! then i couldn't run away. surely this is the way i would die, bleeding to death in bed with no feet.

i hugged them in fetal position, or any other way that wasn't too obvious to this axe murderer i made up in my mind. i hoped he would come in the room and chop and think he got my feet and then move on.

so i tried to stay awake. some nights i fell asleep, as i'm sure i was very tired. many nights, though, i waited about five or so minutes until i couldn't take it anymore and pretended to sleep walk into my mom's room (that she shared with her current boyfriend, george) asking to sleep in her bed with her. other times i would act like i'd already had a bad dream. sometimes she would give in and i'd sleep in the bed with them, but eventually that ended. i was too old to be doing that every night.

and if it wasn't a brick, or an axe murderer, it was anything i'd seen on the news or unsolved mysteries and it was going to happen to me. i was certain.

i'm thinking of this because today i woke up to the sound of my cell phone at 10:10 -- it was toni and i was late for a session. it occured to me that last week was her vacation. i rushed to her office (only about five or so minutes away) and, after talking to her about spring break, she asked me some questions.

"do you ever remember yourself being a happy child?"

and you know, i do, in some ways. i remember going to fest for all and getting my face painted as a butterfly. i remember drawing with sidewalk chalk and pastels at my mom's BBQs and crawfish boils. i remember painting and writing and exploring the woods. i remember happy things.

i told toni the story of the brick and she remembers the incident -- it was a social worker that was killed. i told her my story of how those same people were coming to my house and how they were out to get me. i said, "i know it sounds completely stupid, but i really thought that."

and she said two things. the first being that it was obvious to her that i suffered with some symptoms of depression even at a young age. certainly before the suicides of my friends.

the second was that even though i was suffering those symptoms, i was very creative. she said possibly that creativity is what kept me here throughout the years. she told me, given the circumstances and my attempts at suicide, that it was amazing i was in her office. she told me i had an amazing amount of strength to make it so far.

and i know. if i didn't have that strength i wouldn't be alive. i've used things to crutch me along the way but i've gotten past those things. and it has been a long time, you know?

saturday marks my 21st birthday.

before | after

miss me?

make a difference - July 12, 2007
in short - February 20, 2007
gameday - October 14, 2006
quickie - October 02, 2006
roxie bear - July 06, 2006