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Well I'm stressing out about tomorrow. I'm nowhere near prepared for this exam. But I have to think positive and do my best. He hasn't taught us enough to pass this exam he really is a shit teacher.
Had another good evening with mum. Dad said I'm getting louder. I told him he doesn't like it when I'm quiet.
Woke up with another headache but took some pain killers earlier and I'm ok now. I hope I'm ok in the morning. I can't concentrate on the exam if I'm in pain.
Had a flashback today. I need to discuss this with the mental health team next week. Surely there must be something they can do to stop them.
The voices are starting to get loud again. I need them to shut up. All I want is a day of peace. I'd settle for an hour. I wish I could shut the voices off. That's another thing I need to discuss with the mental health team. I hope I remember. I'll talk to mum tomorrow and see if she will remind me on the day. Not that I'm good at expressing myself clearly when it comes to talking to professionals. But I won't be alone so I'm sure somehow we'll get through it.
I'm trying not to think too much about the appointment because when I think about it I get scared. I'm terrified that I will say the wrong thing and they will have me sectioned. It's not that I don't want to go into hospital. I mean I don't it's not a nice place to be. I'm more worried about what will happen to Penny if they do. I know if they try mum will do all she can to fight for me and I love that. No one has ever been so supportive of me. And I know if they do section me there are enough people around who will look after Penny but she's on medication which I have to give every night and I'm not sure anyone else would be able to get her to take it as easily as I can and it will stress her out. As much as I'd hate to be in hospital she is my main concern. Maybe I should be sectioned it would give mum and dad a break. I know it can't be easy dealing with me. And I know mum worries. But I can feel myself slipping. It's like I'm holding on by my fingers and I'm losing my grip. I could fall at any moment and this time I think I'm going to crash and burn.
I've been having a lot of memories popping up from my childhood. Like when I was in primary school I must have been about 9 and the school rabbit died. There were these girls utter bitches that went round saying I had killed it. Like why would they do that? I'm an animal lover and would never hurt anything. I mean there's a few people I'd punch in the face but never an animal. And the teachers all knew what they were saying and they didn't do anything to stop it. They didn't talk to those girls and tell them to stop. That's because they came from rich families and I didn't. They were smart and I wasn't. They could do no wrong whereas I was always in trouble even if I wasn't there I got in trouble. Like the time I wasn't there in the morning I got there just as the others were going over to the hall for lunch. At the table my friends had stolen cigarettes from the teacher and some matches. And after lunch one of the boys eddy was trying to smoke them round the back of the hall. Obviously he was seen and I was dragged into it. I wasn't even there when it happened but apparently I was the ringleader. And I wasn't old enough to say wait a minute this isn't right I couldn't express it so I was punished along with the other 3. We were all made to sit on one table which wasn't so bad because we were all together and they were my only friends. So I didn't mind that. But we had to stand quietly outside the staff room at play time and lunch time. And if we needed to use the bathroom someone had to come with us. It was so unfair and my biological parents didn't say anything to back me up. But then I wouldn't expect them to. They never supported me in any way. And why did the teacher have them in her desk anyway. She wasn't allowed to smoke in the classroom only in the staffroom. So who's really to blame. We were all like 9ish it really wasn't fair.
I can count on one hand the number of teachers I had throughout my life who were decent. The deputy head of my secondary school she was nice. I wish I had had the courage to tell her what was happening at home. But I was scared she wouldn't believe me and she knew my dad because he was on the board of governors. I regret it now. When I went into care I wish I had opened up to her. But I didn't have the words to explain. And I was too busy trying to pretend it wasn't happening. And at home when it was going on I would force myself to disassociate and it was like I was watching from the side. Unable to stop it. That's how I got through the years of abuse. I was never a happy child. Always dirty. Never smiling. The pictures of me growing up show that. I don't like to look at photos of me from then because I can't believe no one could see how I was.
I thought things would get better when I was in care. But I just got called a liar and no one believed me. So how could I say what was happening.
I was the only kid on the street who didn't have a bike. All my siblings had them I was the only one who didn't. Not till I was about 12 and then I had to teach myself how to ride it.