The Nightshade Princess
Ad 0:
2001-10-25 23:24:32 (UTC)

Everything just kind of grates

Today began on a low note again. My group sounded
good this morning, though, and our dance was largely in
synch. Tomorrow is the deadline, and I am a bit nervous
still about performing this song, though I have it well
memorized. There is awful news from my spiritual sister
Soulfire - As I've fallen, so has she. As thoughts of
death and suicide have plagued my mind, so she has wished
for the gentle reaper's touch. Those shrinks don't really
know what they are doing... all they know is brainwashing
and drugs to change a personality. I truly worry for her,
knowing the depth of my own despair, and knowing we are as
one soul...
I danced in the rain today. I became claustrophobic
in lunch this afternoon, and, when I reached the outside of
the building, I found it was sprinkling. I started pacing
in the fine mist, away from the others who cowered beneith
a large overhang. As the rain drops grew larger and
faster, I began to dance and twirl, right there in front of
all those people. I just didn't care. This was a creation
of the Goddess... this was one way she cleanses and
nourishes the world! How could one be frightened of it?
How can one stay out of it? Cool, clear water soaked my
dress and my hair. My makeup barely ran. It was one of
those spiritual moments you never quite forget. I swear I
was glowing as I walked to my last class of the day. Some
of the crowd stared at myself and my friends, and two told
me I was stupid for enjoying the rain in such a manner. I
looked one in the eyes - a boy, dry and with a cold heart I
could feel radiating - and I said "I am free."
Falling again from this beautiful moment has been
painful to say the least. Even now, I feel my cancer
creeping in on me, filling my soul until I am heavy and
tired once more. I ate a slice of pizza... sort of. I
took the cheese and toppings off it, so it was more a
fresh, hot slice of really flat, kind of slimy bread with
hot pepper flakes. Mother has cancelled our weekly outing
yet again. Her work calls her, and I have come to
understand that now.
Father is still domineering and chauvanistic. At
least he hasn't started speaking to me again... not in that
icy, forceful manner that is slowly killing me. I know he
doesn't understand what he does wrong. It happens every
time he "loves" a woman... including myself. He seems to
think of us as property. We should clean up after
everything he does, pacify him in any way, never speak
above that whispery voice. I tried to defend myself again
a few days ago. I didn't speak disrespectfully or
anything. In that soft voice I merely said I thought that
he'd put his dishes in the dishwasher, which is why I
didn't spring up to get them... I actually finished my
sentance there, which is quite an amazing feat, but I got
yelled at. I think he actually believes his own lies,
which frightens me. He doesn't care about how he's made me
feel. If I tell him anything that touches below the
surface of me, I get yelled at because I do not have his
opinions, and those are all that is right. I keep trying
to explain to him who I am, but he tells me "this is not
you" and that I am "confused."
How in Hell would he know who I am? Until I was about
10, he was always gone at work. I rarely ever saw him.
When I got the chicken pox in kindergarden, I recall he
brought me a little teddy bear. Even then, I remember
thinking how unusual it was for him to bring me anything,
or for me to see him for longer than 5 minutes at a time.
When I was about 11-12, he would no longer hold a steady
job, and started drinking, so that even when he was home,
it was so terrible I wanted to die. He was only a little
more oppressive than he is now. I remember having to clean
up beer cans... dozens of them a day. He wouldn't eat much
if anything, and always shouted at my mother and said
terrible things to all of us. I can see my mother in those
days, as clearly as I can see this computer monitor. A
pale, sick-looking waif. She tried to clean up after him,
tried to protect us... she enjoyed nothing tried to pacify
him in any way possible, hating every moment of
everything. If we went anywhere, we would have to pay,
dealing with a double serving of his grouchiness because
his wife wasn't waiting at home for him.
I have observed the same thing within me. The
happiest days of my life are always followed by the
darknest depressions I've known. I have to pay for the
happiness... He won't accept any blame, and his girlfriend
often gets so sick of his behavior that she ends up yelling
at him and leaving in a hurry.
Mother tells me that's just the way he's always been.
I know she's right. After she left, though, he was
actually nice. He gave up drinking, and we went dancing or
we went to the bookstore and drank coffee and talked for
hours. What happened to him? He has begun to drink again
and it really frightens me. I can't fix any of this... oh
WHY can't I fix any of this????