I took my dogs out for a walk today...

We hit the front yard and they sniffed for a second and we started walking. I noticed a guy getting out of his car and glaring at me. All the sudden he said "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOUR DOG? IS SHE HURT!!?

"Uhhh...no."

"Well then what's wrong with her?"

Who the fuck is this guy the fucking dog police?

"She's disabled. She's been this way since birth."

"Huh..."

He walked away. He could have at least said that he was sorry for yelling at me.

Brighter side of the day. I rounded the block and I heard some one call my name. It was Barbara.

I met her the other day walking the girls. She was in her wheelchair the fancy kind like the "getarounds." She stopped and asked me about the girls. We talking for a few minutes and then we went on our way.

Today when I rounded the block and I heard some one call my name. I looked around and she said "Over here." She was on the first floor of her balcony "Do your dogs eat people food? I saw you walking the dogs and I saved some beef jerky for them."

"Barbara! Of course they do."

We stood and talked for fifteen minutes. It's funny how people can spew their guts in that amount of time. We both did and I do not know why. This I can't explain.

All I can say is some one nice made up for some one being nasty.

People don't get it...

Nor will they ever. You can't live in my skin or know how my brain is spinning.

I think I'd like to be normal...that shit ain't happin any time soon.

The last few months have been bad. It's like his hand is on my shoulder all the fucking time. I wake up fighting and no one.

It took me two weeks to work up the courage to go to the department of mental health. Robert drove me and went in to the session with me.

"So, tell me why your here." she said.

"Domestic violence."

"How long were you in the relationship?"

"Fuck...a decade." I said.

"Did he ever try to kill you?" Heh...that was a fucking funny question that made me want to punch a wall.

Then I heard Robert. "Yes, he's tried several times."

I don't want to remember this fucking shit. Unfortunately my memory has a different agenda.

"Are you suicidal?" She asked.

"Not today."

People keep telling me to get over it...

I try...I really try.

It ain't that fucking easy.

When I try to suppress emoticons I have horrible nightmares. I wake up in a sweat and throw up.

911 was not an option in my book. That's the nightmare that I woke up to last night.

He was doing speed and had been up for 3 days. No sleep for me. When I would try to sleep, he would wake me up. "Wake up you stupid fucking cunt." He took my purse, my keys and my phone. He saw me eyeballing the bedroom window and said "if you leave I will kill your dogs."

Hence, I didn't leave.

I do not want to remember 3 days in a 10 second dream. It makes me think "What did I do wrong?"

I'm sorry

that i wake up at night terrified.

There is nothing there.

I hate that I've told people about my past.

I thought that being honest was good.

What a fucking joke.

I found this today...

when I was looking for a blank page to draw on.

I worked so hard on this piece for his band's logo. He loved it.

When the band came over they thought it was fabulous.

His bass player told me he couldn't imagine any thing better.

I saw the look on Vance's face.

He looked at me and saw how happy I was that other people liked what I can do.

Then his face changed. Fuck. I stole the spotlight.

After they left he was in my face. "You are a shitty artist...if you can even call yourself a artist. You fucking cunt!"

I take pride in my art and he gave me the inspiration after that night.

I take hate to paper and charcoal.

I have my issues...

But don't use them against me because you will lose.

My roommate came in to my room the other night at 2:30am and asked if i wanted to hang out. Sure...I guess. Him toting an 18 pack didn't look good. After 15 beers I was nailed to the cross. "Its' always about you, India!" "I don't understand, Robert. Tell me what I'm doing wrong." He wouldn't answer me. I hung my head at took the last hour and didn't say a word. I don't like to fight any more it's useless.

He apologized the next day and it was all good...for about three days.

Three days of me thinking about all the things he said to me and the things Vance said.

I exploded into a million pieces.

He blamed it all on me. "You are the one that makes me this way."

Nope.

I wish I just would have punched a wall.

I hate it when people are cruel...

to me.