I'm starting to draw more than I like...

I guess I can't contain the pain any more.

I don't like defeat. He killed me. I should be dead. I want to be dead.

The memories are coming back. It's like trying to swat a fly. Shoo fly don't bother me. He is always there in some form. I still can't sleep.

I remembered last night about his knife. He said "I could gut some one with this."

He lost it. I was so happy that he lost a knife that could gut some one.

"Bitch where is my knife?"

You actually want to find it for them to make the abuse go away.

That was a long night.

Can you imagine searching for some thing that he was going to gut me with for 24 hours...he didn't let me sleep...ever.