Tuesday, November 30, 2010

I like the picture...


I flipped it and it didn't look right so I kept it backwards.

The pain that I feel is coming to the surface and it's coming through my art work and I think that's helping me let it go.

I still wake up at night to his voice "die bitch die." At the end, those were the kindest words he spoke. He will never understand what he did to me nor will people that know me.

One eye open for the rest of my life. "By the way, India...watch the girls. You might lose them." My dogs? He told me he wanted to kill all of us. I hid every thing. Knifes and hammers. He bought two hammers and sawed off baseball bat and put then by his side of the bed. He also bought a 6 in flip out knife. He told me "I could gut some one with this." That made me feel save. Hence, the one eye open.

I couldn't leave...I had no money...I had no where to go. I don't think there is any explanation of domestic violence.

Excuses...yes. I have tons. He trapped me in and I didn't know how to get out.

Now that I'm free of him I'm terrified of him.

"Watch your back India, always watch your back...if you don't you are dead, I will kill you."

He already killed me once...I'm just waiting for him to really kill me.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

I was watching Deadly Women tonight...

One of the therapists said that one of the women had a "Narcissistic personality."

It rang a bell...Vance.

I asked my roommate if he had ever heard of it. He said "Yeah, I've heard of it...oh shit, yeah." He knew exactly who I was talking about. I looked it up.

The cause of this disorder is unknown. Narcissistic personality disorder usually begins by early adulthood.

A person with narcissistic personality disorder:

  • Reacts to criticism with rage, shame, or humiliation
  • Takes advantage of other people to achieve his or her own goals
  • Has feelings of self-importance
  • Exaggerates achievements and talents
  • Is preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, beauty, intelligence, or ideal love
  • Has unreasonable expectations of favorable treatment
  • Requires constant attention and admiration
  • Disregards the feelings of others, lacks empathy
  • Has obsessive self-interest
  • Pursues mainly selfish goals

He hit all ten of those symptoms. I always knew there was some thing wrong with him.

He made me feel like shit so he could feel better about him self. He didn't care. I don't think he ever loved me. I don't blame him because I'm a stupid fucking bitch.

The funny thing is...I did a piece of art work a few years ago and I ripped a page from my dictionary and put it on a guitar that he smashed. I curled "Narcissistic."

It's weird. I told my room mate on Thanksgiving "If some thing happens to me you'll tell the cops to look for Vance, right?" He said yes.


Are you serious?

I pay the GWP. Electricity is expensive.

My room mate has been running the space heater.

He's warm and I'm freezing my ass off. I had to go in to his room and say how I felt.

He was asleep with the heater running. I woke him up when I was turning off the heater.

He said "If I don't have it on I could get pneumonia."

Hnnnn....I don't think so.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

He lives with me...

How ever, I have no clue who he is.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

I've been through this art shit before...


It won't leave me alone. It's beating me in the head and I'm tired of it.

I dream of what I'm going to draw tomorrow but there are so many that I have to pick one.

I can't...so it just all rolls together. I don't understand.

Don't make me cut my ear off. Heh.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

It took me three hours


Okay...maybe five. I like it.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

I got it now.

People that can't speak their mind take it out on others.

Guess what? That's fucking bullshit.

Grow some fucking balls. Speak.

Are you fucking serious?

Dude...don't fuck with me.

I with stand other peoples pain. It's written all over their fucking face.

He did it again. He passed out in my bed. I slept on the floor in the living room.

Robert and I had a fight about respect.

I don't think he get's it.

Monday, November 08, 2010

you see

I'm hurting other people. I've been reaching out. I still want to beat my self in the head.

Sparce numbers for some one who wants to talk about domestic violence.

You know I found the fucking number. It took me two hours.

What if some one couldn't?

It's called dead.

Do you know the worst part about being with that asshole?

I couldn't get to the phone. He knew I would call 911.

I didn't have a chance in hell of getting any phone...any help.

He should have been a line backer.

All in a days work, right?

Sunday, November 07, 2010

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.

Thursday, November 04, 2010

I'm 122

Lbs. that is. I'm shooting for 127.

I never thought in my life I would want to gain weight. Food doesn't go down so well any more.

I think I might be sick.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

I think I like it.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Suppression...

I do it so well. If I remember all the things he did to me I would probably lose my mind. The seconds are coming back.

It was a black knife...a five inch blade. Not scary on a normal person. It scared the fuck out of me with it in HIS hands.

He told me he could gut me and the girls with out even thinking about it.

I didn't sleep that night.

I realize I've lost a lot of sleep. I still can't sleep.

He's always there. One eye open, one eye open, one eye open.

People keep telling me to get over it. I wish it was that simple. It's not.

I will always look over my shoulder because he just might be there with a knife or a gun. He told me so many times that he wanted to see me dead.

Funny thing is...I don't know why.