Suicide Letters to Brandon

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Wow. I'm shocked. Someone has started a journal about me. Or to me. Or something. I am getting the image that people care about me, even the ones that don't know me. Especially the ones that don't know me. That means a lot to me, considering that the one person who is supposed to at least pretend like he cares pushed me off onto somebody else. Oh well.

I'm reading about an office fishtank lately, and it's hilarious. I feel really bad for the fish, though, considering what these poor, misunderstood aquatic animals go through on a daily basis. I don't know, since I'm not very far along, they could all be dead by now and I wouldn't even know it. Sad. Guess I'd better start reading.

I finally got ahold of Dee the other day, and she sounds really nice. We're supposed to be going out to lunch in an hour and I'm a little nervous. She doesn't sound anything like what I heard about her. She came here from a city (and our town in small, of course) and she doesn't feel comfortable here, she says. Gosh, I'm going to seem like a hick, sad. Oh well.

I have thought of another smashing good memory, but seeing as I smell and my mouth has the nasty aftertaste of Russell Stover truffles (the only kind of chocolate that I like), I'm going to go groom and I'll tell you about it when I get back. Sorry to leave you in suspense, but wait dilligently for me to return and you won't be disappointed. (Well, I hope not, anyway.)

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I made a new friend today. Dee is soooooo cool. She's like my soulmate, or something. She admitted to liking Nsync (in the closet, of couse) when she was younger, we both got scared at the Sixth Sense, and we have a lot of the same views on religion. She isn't "socially retarted" at all. In fact, she's more sophistocated than I am in a lot of ways. We get along really well, though, and today was really fun. We went to lunch with a friend of mine, and then to Wal Mart (you know, the only semicultural structure in this crappy town), and then back here to watch American Pie 2. What a funny girl.

Guess what? I wanted to cut this morning, but I didn't. I know eventually my will power's going to break down, but for now, I'm doing okay. I've decided if I cut again (and that's if, not when) I'm going to do it on my leg, because then people won't notice it. I know that I shouldn't do it, but it's not like it gets any better when people make a big deal out of it. I haven't done it in a few weeks and my arm has healed. I have a lot of little scars, but they'll go away eventually.

I have to babysit tonight, oh joy. These people are pretty young, and they're from the SOUTH. I say SOUTH because they're very very southern. They are constantly ma'aming me, and it's weird. They're really cute, though, and they never leave before Brianne, their one year old, is asleep. Basically, I'm getting paid to watch their full service cable TV. Fun fun for everyone.

I've been thinking, keeping busy isn't the same thing as being happy, is it? I've been in constant motion for a while now, and it's starting to wear me down. I'm not happier, just on the move because if I sit still for long enough, I might just pull out the scissors or the pills or some other random object of destruction. But, being busy isn't the same as being happy. I'm happy that I haven't done anything stupid lately, but I'm not happy. I am trying to be, but it's not working. I have been bursting into tears at the drop of a hat lately, and I can't stand it. Goodness, is anything ever going to get better? I don't think so. Oh well, such is my life, and such is deserved, I suppose.

Did you ever feel like your parents didn't think you could make it? I feel like that about my dad sometimes. I got a C in PE one quarter this year and he was all bent out of shape. "You're never going to get into college with grades like that," he said. PE, father, PE. I don't think you need a 100 % in PE to be what I want to be. Then, yesterday, I said I wanted to go to school on the west coast, like UC Davis, or UCLA, or maybe Washington somewhere. My dad was like, "What are you doing to get into UC Davis?" I said, "Going to school." And then came the look. You know, the look that says, "Mmhmm, but you're obviously not going to get in on the grades that you're getting." I make mostly A's and B's and the occasional C in math (or PE.) I think those are good enough grades to get into college, don't you? If not, it's obviously too hard for me to handle anyway.

I have a funny anecdote to tell you, but I don't think I'm going to have time to finish it before my father gets back, so I'll just give you a preview of this new addition to my stroll down memory lane and you can hear the rest later.


It's the late 1980's in the smalltown ghetto where I live with my family. I'm no older than two or three and in my limitted existance, I know but one truth. We are poor. (Well, not poor, but we're certainly not rich.) We have brown shag carpet and hamburger helper is my constant foe at dinnertime. Well, tonight is different. As my mother and father let us into the house after picking us up from daycare, the words "Macdonalds" cross their lips and our eyes light up with delight. Then, as they closed the door to their room to change, the shit hit the fan.

To be continued, 'cause my dad's here to pick me up for babysitting.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I was in the middle of telling you about the night of Macdonald's, right? Yeah, okay, as I was saying, when my parents closed their door, my brother and I went wild.


The shag carpet slides through my toes like some kind of sticky furry carpety substance (sorry, I was going for some kind of parallel there, but you really can't do it with shag carpet) as I run down the hall and into the living room. "Macdonald's, Macdonald's!" is my warcry as I attack my brother (who is watching Sesame Street like the good child he is) with the ecstasy of it all. After many a long night of tuna casserole and hamburger helper, finally has my goldeny, greasy, deep fried ship sailed in.

My brother, who is becoming excited by my sheer exuberance, gets up and joins me as I scream with joy. We run through the house together, devoid for the moment of all reason as our parents have closed themselves in their room. I'm running and screaming, and out of nowhere comes something that puts a stop to my childish happiness. The only thing that can bring a child down from such a high as mine. The wall.

I hear a distant scream from inside of a dark tunnel, soon followed by more screams and sobs. My face feels hot, and as I try to look around, my vision is shrouded by red and black. I wish the screaming would stop, and then I realize that I'm the one screaming. This just scares me even more. I've got a towel covering my face as blood streams down into my ears. It seems that while I was careening about, I took a corner too sharp and didn't make it. Ooops.


The rest of the story is very technical and involves going to the ER (actually, the same one that I met you in), getting stiches as I'm struggling to escape from the straps that bind my tiny arms and legs to the bed, and then a man who tries to play Peek a Boo with me as they sew my head back together. Even at two or three, I wasn't amused.

Recently, my mother told me the story, but she told me something that I suppose I've just blocked out of my memory, because it never dawned on me to suspect anything foul about my accident. I'd just like to state for the record that I was pushed! By my own brother! Oh the humanity. In the end, I did get my Macdonald's. It was cold and soggy by the time I got it, but it's the thought that counts. (Oh, and of course the wonderful happy meal toy.)

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I went to church today. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, after a month or so of hiding from my own damnation. I don't know what I think right now. I still have the same views on religion, but I think that the focus has become skewed. How can I follow in the "path of righteousness" when I'm always screwing things up? It just doesn't seem worth it to try anymore. Oh well.

I watched a really good movie on HBO. It's called My House in Umbria and it was smashing. It's about these people who survive a terrorist bombing on a train who all get together at this woman's house to heal. There's the woman, a general whos daughter dies, a very hot German named Verna who loses his girlfriend, and a little American girl named Amy whos parents are both killed. They all fall in love with the little girl when out of the blue, her uptight, rude uncle comes to take her away. It's full of power struggles and even a few surprising discoveries about the train bombing. I loved it, but it made me really sad.

I haven't called my boyfriend today. I'm trying to see what will happen if I don't fight to make this work. I just want to see if he'll realize that I'm not calling and call me. So far, nothing. If he doesn't call, what'll happen? Will we just stop talking and unofficially break up? I don't know. I hope he calls me. I can feel things starting to break up again, and I don't think I could take the rejection right now. (Or ever, maybe.)

I scare myself sometimes. I keep having these visions of cutting myself where nobody would be able to see the marks. I don't want to do it, but something inside of me does want to. I want to cry and hurt and kill and maim untill all the badness is gone. I want to find what's making me sad and cut it out of me. I want it gone forever. I thought that once I let you go, things would go back to being better, but so far, it doesn't seem like it. I mean, it was a start, but I don't know what else to do.

Sometimes I think about killing myself, even though I know that in my current frame of mind I wouldn't do it. I might try, but every time I have, I've always changed my mind. Right before I passed out when I took the pills, I realized that I didn't want to die. I just wanted to stop the pain. I know now that the pain that comes afterwards is, while not worse, bad enough. If I ever tried again, I would probably just slit my wrists, because charcoal is nasty, if they find you.

I know that this isn't a very comforting note to leave you on, but I have no choice, really. I have to go fill out job paperwork with my mother. Do not fear, I won't do anything before I talk back with you. Wait for me.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Why is everything constantly changing? Albeit, I do like the new colors and other crap on the site, when I first got here, I had no idea what the hell was going on. I don't know, I kind of liked it the way it was. It was comfortable, known, like an old pair of shoes. Now all I can smell is new rubber. Thanks guys.

My cat is licking himself in a grossly erotic manner. Have you ever noticed how cats will just forget that they've been cleaning that area and they just leave their leg in the air while they look around at other things? I just want to take a picture and send it to all of his little kitten friends so they can laugh at him. We always tell him that the girl cats are laughing when he's being dumb, but I think he's secretly homosexual, so he doesn't care. Oh well. My poor gay kitty.

I get to go shoot the shit with "Dr. Dennis" again tomorrow. I don't think I can talk to him, really. He seems, weird, or something. He got jealous (well, that's what I think anyway) and now I can't go talk to Lt. Garcia. Isn't that shit? Who is he to tell me who I can be comfortable with and who I can't? What a bitch. No, not really, I'm just meanhearted, I think. Oh well.

I drove by where I used to work the other day. The girl that was working stared at me as I drove past and looked at me. I mean, she gave me a look. I don't get it, they're the ones in the wrong and just because a few of the people I know told a few of their friends and so on and so forth not to go in there anymore, is that my fault? I don't think so.

I'm listening to Aerials by System of a Down (it's the only song of theirs that I can get into at all) and I have no idea what it means. There's another of their songs that I think is to the lead singer's son, but that's all I know about that one. Do you judge me, because I'm listening to music that means nothing to me, really? A lot of people do that. Why do I have to believe in everything that I do? Like, will I be judged if I choose to eat toast for breakfast rather than scambled eggs, even though I don't know that the toast is made from whole wheat or something? Will the health enthusiasts call me a poser for eating wheat bread? Why are clothes any different?

I got called a tramp for wearing a skirt the other day. It's not like it was all that short, 'cause my father would have a fit if it were. I guess I just give of trampy vibes or something. Who knows. If I were to wear shapeless sweaters and loosefitting jeans, somebody would find something wrong with it. Grrrr, society needs to get off my back. Or off my skirt as it were.

I surprised my boyfriend by coming over today. He wouldn't get up for the longest time, and then he snapped at me when I offered to make breakfast. Then I helped him clean his room (more for his mother's sake than anyone's, 'cause she has enough to deal with, namely my boyfriend's ADHD little brother.) but he wasn't really helping. After the room, I washed his dishes for him because he wouldn't do them and his mom was getting frustrated. I am too good for him sometimes, I think.

It makes me mad that he knows he's being a shit around his house and he won't change. His dad's an asshole, but he's been gone for a while now and the stress is starting to show on his mom. She's got three kids to take care of all alone. Oh, and the South Park kids don't even hold a candle to the three of them. They are constantly swearing and fighting and relieving bodily gasses in public. It's horrible, but they're like my second family. I just wish my boyfriend could set a better example for his younger brother and sister. I love his mother and I'm sorry she's got to deal with their shit on a daily basis.

You're thinking, then why are you still with him, right? Well, I'll tell you. Even though we may fight a lot, and even though he rushes through sex, and even though we almost never agree on anything, when we're getting along, we really go well together. He's the best kisser I've met to date, he knows how to hold me when I'm sad, and he's not jealous. My baby knows how to take care of me, for the most part. I think that I'm the problem with our relationship, 'cause I don't have much patience with anything and I'm quick to anger or frustration. I'm trying to cut it out, but it doesn't seem to be working. I will just have to try harder, I guess.

I've decided not to kill myself today. Things are bad in here, but not too bad. The pain has kind of become numbed by the fact that I'm trying to ignore it. I don't know how long I will last this time. I don't want to die. I just want to feel better. I figure, if I'm dead, at least I won't feel bad anymore, right? I'm fighting in here, but I don't think I can win.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Why is it that when I talk to people, I always end up feeling worse than when I went in? I want to cry and scream and hurt things, but I won't, because it's rude. The only thing that deserves to be hurt is me. I deserve pain, and everthing else I get in this life. Today, I cut myself. Well, yesterday, really. They hid all the scissors, so I used an exacto knife. I'm sorry. I really am, but I don't know how to stop. God, I just need to kill myself and get it over with, because I'm pretty sure that people are tired of my bitching. I just want to cut myself untill I bleed. I can't do it, and I end up with a bunch of scratches, but not anymore. I deserve to be hurt. I deserve it, because I do stupid things and I say stupid things and I get myself into stupid situations. God, I hate myself. I'm sorry.

I have a plan. I don't know if I'll ever execute this plan, but the way shit is going, I don't see any reason not to, except that there are a lot of people that would be upset. I don't know, I don't want to die because other people would be sad, but they don't understand what it's like to be me. There's a voice inside of me that keeps telling me to kill myself, and for a while I could block it out but it's coming back. I'm really scared, Brandon, and I don't have anyone. I don't have anyone to tell about it. I can't talk to my family or my friends or my boyfriend, because they don't understand. Nobody ever will. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Please, don't hate me, I think I can do that well enough for myself. I am so scared, and I don't know what to do. Things are getting worse, and even if I don't do anything, eventually I'm going to die. This thing is going to kill me, with or without the pills. Please, just make it stop hurting me.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I guess I was right. I'm going to die, and nobody really notices. I started taking the pills at about 330, and I've taken about seven. I took 2500 mg of something I got after having surgery last summer and then went to sleep. I had a headache this morning, so I took some motrin. I'm really scared, and my chest hurts. I called my boyfriend, but he just kept telling me to go to sleep and that everythiiiiing was goingto be fine. Then he said goodby eand hung up. I'm really dizzy, trying to write this to you. I am so tired, and so cold. I"m going to go back to bed. If my boyfriend thinks it'll be fine, then I guess it will be. I just don't want to die. I"m really scared, Braandon. I'm so scared of what's going to happen. I'm sleepy now, so I'm going to go to sleep. Goodbye. I'm really sorry.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Just wanted to post quick, and let you know that I'm not dead. I'm not dead. I'll write more later to explain.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well. After much denial, even more heartache, and finally letting go, I got my five minutes. Right when I didn't even want them anymore, they popped up in the most unexpected place; the ER. After trying to choke down a cup of charcoal and vommitting it back up, having an NG tube stuck down my throat (via my nose mind you), and then having it ripped back out, you were really the last person I wanted to see just then. But at the same time, I'm glad you came.

I want to tell you what happened before you showed up, because to me, the people that stuck with me through it all deserve a little more credit than you do, I'm afraid. My paramedic, Sgt Norland, was great. He gave me my IV and I didn't even feel it. He rubbed my back and told me that everything was okay as I tried to swallow the charcoal, to no avail. He put the tube in for me, and sat with me as I almost passed out because it hurt to breathe so I stopped. I couldn't swallow with the tube, so I kept drooling on myself, and he wiped the slobber off of my mouth and talked to me about silly things like camping and sleep-driving. He held onto me when I couldn't make it to X-ray because I hurt on the inside. I owe a lot of my being here to him. Thank you times infinity, Sgt. Norland.

By the time you showed up, I had just gotten the tube out. There were several people bustling about and then, there was nobody. Except you. My first instinct was to cry out in dismay "Oh, shit, not you." (But I didn't, of course.) I didn't know what to say, so I just sat there. You kept asking me why. I told you I didn't want to die, and God, you just took that and ran with it. "Well, if you didn't want to die, then why did you do it?" You were simply oozing condescension, but I guess I deserved it. You kept asking why you shouldn't hospitalize me. Well, Brandon, I don't know, you're the doctor, why don't you figure it the fuck out?

Right as you got up to leave, I found my voice. "Can I ask you something?" I inquired weakly. You came back and sat down next to me and looked at me with a stare that I won't forget. "If I hadn't said anything about what happened to me, would you have still made me leave?" You said yes. You said that I needed someone that could take care of me, who wouldn't have to break trust like he would. More important than the words was your voice. You switched from angry to sad. You said you weren't angry at me, just at the fact that you couldn't help me. You promised not to ship me off to the valley that night, and I'm grateful. Thank you.

The next day, I had to go talk to "Dr. Dennis" about the "incident" (as we're now calling it, I guess.) My mother pulled this stupid shit in there about how both she and my father were "very angry with Lauren." They were talking about how I "need to be at home where they can take care of me." Oh yes, because I didn't just try to kill myself AT HOME, WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING SLEEPING! Jesus. She can not trust me, she can be disappointed, those are her rights as my mother, but she has no fucking right to be angry. She has no idea what it's like to be me. She doesn't know what I go through ever day of my life knowing some of the things that have happened. So, I think they just need to back the fuck off, right now. :exp:

That's the first smilie I have used in this journal because it's a serious journal, but I needed something to express the intense anger that I'm feeling about everything, and that does it best, I think.

They got me some more meds, today, because they think I need them. "Dr. Dennis" is "worried about me." He says he can't figure out why you didn't send me to the hospital that night, because it's the second time it has happened. I dont' know either, really. Hmm. Maybe I'm just dense, but oh well.

My life (and I hate this analogy, but it's the closest fit) is like a rollercoaster. For a while, it climbs toward the sky and everything goes great. Then, when it's at the top, it just sits there waiting for me to forget that I'm on the ride. When I've forgotten what the bad times are like, the car plummets to the earth at life shattering speeds. Then it begins the climb again. Well, excuse me, Mr. Conductor, I want off. Now.

I was thinking. I don't exactly know how to talk to "Dr. Dennis." You told me the other night to open up to him and let him know what's going on because he can help me, if I let him. He's started this whole, let's get to the root of the problems kick (all under the pretense that he can't force me to say anything) and I want to figure out what's making me so sad but I don't know how to talk to him. It's easier to talk to you, because I know you'll never read this. This journal empowers me, because I can write, scratch out, and rewrite what I want to say. Maybe I'll let "Dr. Dennis" read this one day. Who knows?

Well, I've gotta go wait around for my boyfriend to call me back about going out tomorrow. Oh, by the way, his name is Kyle. You already knew that, but I keep calling him 'my boyfriend' so I thought you might've forgotten. Yeah. Talk at you later, maybe. Hopefully.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Guess what???? Today is definitely a great day, no matter what else happens! Yay! Harry Potter is here! Woohoo! Can't really talk right now, I'm in the middle of the second chapter and already I'm hooked! Good gosh, I'm so excited! *Scream of pure delight*

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Taking a break from Hogwarts and Harry, 'cause I'm already almost to page 300. Wow. What a great book. I'm not saying a word about what I've read, though, because I refuse to be a book ruiner for whoever reads this.

My brother leaves for the Academy on Tuesday, and I have to admitt that I'm a little sad about it. I'm going to miss him, because he understands me better than everybody else (even if he is annoying as hell most of the time.) I am finding solace in the fact that when he's gone, I get his waterbed, his cell phone, and his car. Yay. I don't know, I should be excited, but I'm not. I can't replace my brother with stuff. I just have this feeling that from now on, I'll only see him at Christmas and other family holidays. Sad. Oh well.

I got in a huge fight with my boyfriend and it took a stranger telling me that what we have is special to realize just that. I almost threw away the best guy I've ever met because he doesn't know what to do a lot of the time. Like the other day. He was on the phone with me when I was taking the pills and he just sat there and didn't do anything. It's not like I am allowed to expect that of him, but what happens if it happens again? What happens if I take the whole bottle? Is he just going to sit there and let me die on the other end of the phone? Jesus, it scares me.

I think things are going to be okay, eventually. I could be wrong, though. I hope not, 'cause I'm tired of feeling good only to be plummeted back to Earth with painful bodily harm. Ouchies. Well, I have to get back to Harry Potter, 'cause I'm a junkie. I won't rest until I've sucked it dry of all it's story and it's nothing but a husk of what was once the Harry Potter book. Write back when I can tear myself away again (if I don't just finish it first.)

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

OHMYGOSH!!!!! I'VE FINISHED IT! Well, actually, I finished it yesterday, but it was late and my dad was using the computer. OH MY GOSH!! HARRY POTTER IS THE SHIT! OH YEAH! *scream of pure joy*

Well, now that I've gotten that out, today was fairly good. My boyfriend and I went bowling with his little brother and sister. She's fourteen and he's eleven. (Well, he's got ADHD, so he acts like he's seven most of the time. I'm not saying that ADHD makes him immature, but that is his excuse for his behavior, so why not?) We were all playing horribly, so we put up bumpers and everyone improved (even though nobody touched the bumpers once.) It was quite miraculous.

I know I said I wasn't going to have sex with Kyle (my boyfriend) anymore, or at least until he learned how to control himself, right? Well, he surprised me today in the most pleasant of ways. Let me tell you (without sick details, of course) that it was the best time I've ever had. Yep.

I'm really sad right now. I think it's because after tomorrow I won't see my brother until labor day and after that, who knows? I don't. I'm happy for him that he got into the Academy, but he was all I had left at home. Now I have nobody to talk to when shit gets hard. God damn the world. Oh well. I will really miss him, no matter how much he annoys me. He's the best brother a girl could ask for.

I'm taking this new medication, but I don't know if it's working. All it seems to accomplish is letting me know that I'm sad. It's a more pronounced feeling of sadness with the meds than without. Instead of being able to hide it, There's now something in my head that just shrieks, you're sad, get over it. I don't know how that's helping me, but whatever.

Well, we leave for Colorado tomorrow, so I don't know when I'll be able to write next. Hopefully by tomorrow night, but I don't know. If I don't write for a while, don't worry. If I never write back, it's safe to panic, but until then, I'm okay, no worries. Have a great week, I'm off to shower and sleep.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well, we made it through rain, snow, fog so thick you couldn't see cars in the next lane, and, at one point, what seemed to be a complete solar disappearance, but was probably just cloud cover. Jesus, could the trip have been scarier? Of course it could. We had lunch at Taco Bell, and then my parents decided to give me the keys. I'm thinking, yeah, finally a chance to prove I'm a good driver. Wrong. I got what we now know was heartburn from Taco Bell food and almost passed out on the freeway. Scary.

I'm sad this evening. That seems to happen a lot with these meds. They don't really seem to do anything at all until the early evening when I get really sad and mopey and sleepy all at once. It's odd. I cried today for no reason at all and I couldn't figure out any way to get happy so I called my boyfriend. He cheered me right up, let me tell you. He has the most innocent laugh I've ever heard and when I called he just laughed at me crying (not in a mean way, in a loving way) and said that he knew I'd miss him, but I'd just have to shine it on for a few more days. He usually knows what to say when I'm sad (even if it's simply not saying anything.) I miss him after only a day. Pathetic, isn't it? Oh well.

Oh, I started telling you yesterday about Harry Potter, right? Well I got the book in the mail on Saturday and I finished it Sunday evening. I waited almost three years for this book and believe me, I wasn't disapointed. I cried at the end because I didn't want it to be over. When I read Harry Potter, for a while, I can forget about everything else and become part of it all. I can fly accross the Quidditch pitch or walk along dark corridors in dreams or even sneak out to visit Hagrid under my invisibility cloak. I know, I'm a loser, but oh well. The fifth book is definitely worth waiting for. I'm going to write JK Rowling and ask her if, when she's done with the seventh book, she would be interested in writing a book about Harry's parents and the rest of the original Order of the Phoenix. I know a lot of people who would be interested in reading it.

Tomorrow, we're going to the mall, I think, which is cruel to my brother. He can't buy anything, not even underwear (which he informed us he forgot to pack. What a moron.) I don't understand the military life. I mean, I'm glad that people do it, but I would never have the stamina to go through even six weeks of boot camp. I'm going to go to sit down college where we read a lot and nobody ever has to run, or even move very much. Yay!

Well. Writing really isn't helping me out with the whole happiness thing, so I'm going to go to sleep. Something to think about: "Dr. Dennis" wants to start talking about important things. Can I trust him, really? You said yes, but then again, I don't really trust you either. Goodness, I'm so confused. How can I trust "Dr. Dennis", when the very person who is telling me to trust him, broke trust with me over nothing? I don't know. Oh well, I'll just think about it and get back to you. I think I have an idea, but I need to consider the outcomes. I'll write again, hopefully tomorrow. Goodnight.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Today was an okay day. I think I'm going to stop eating for a while. Well, not stop eating entirely, but I need to stop eating the crap that my parents keep giving us. We've had fast food every day for like, a month. It's disgusting and I can feel myself getting fatter as I sit here and type. I need to eat a salad, or something, before I blow up like a balloon (or that girl from Willy Wanka who eats the gum and turns into a giant blueberry. Take your pick.)

I'm really sad today and I don't know why. I guess it's just anxiety about tomorrow. I don't know though, I feel like I'm sad not really because of that, but because I miss my friends. Is that horrible of me? I miss my kitten (who didn't get fed today, because my friend Katie couldn't get in the house) and my boyfriend. I am debating whether or not to call him because he hinted at needing a few non-Lauren days. Ouchies.

Sometimes I think about killing myself. (I know, that just came out of nowhere, but try to keep up.) The only problem is, I don't think I could take the charcoal again if somebody found out or if I was to weak and called my boyfriend, so I decided to slit my wrists. I don't know though, I have a hard time getting anything to cut very deep as it is, will I be able to do it? I mean, I'm not saying that I'm going to, it's just something that's been bugging me. I haven't cut in a long time, by the way. Just thought you should know that it's been over a week.

I dreamt about you last night. (No, nothing sexual, because I really don't think of you like that. I prefer to think of you as having no genitalia at all because it's gross to think of you like that. No offense.) We were back in the ER and you were crying. I remember just sitting there, hoping that you felt bad about everything and you weren't just bullshitting me. You cried for a while and then you looked at me and said you were sorry for everything. Then you left and I was alone. Weird, huh?

Well, my own discomfort has gotten the better of me, and I'm going to call my boyfriend. I love him to much to let him go to sleep without hearing me say it. If you are feeling bad, don't worry about it. I still hurt a little, but for the most part, I'm over you. (That isn't meant to sound suggestive.) Have a good and happy life. Talk to you later.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well, we're home. Yay, I guess. It's different, now that he's gone. My brother I mean. Goodness, he's been gone for not even a day and already I miss him. Isn't that pathetic? I think so, but if I could stop it I don't think I would. It helps me to remember that I care about something so much that I cried myself to sleep yesterday because it was gone. It's good to know that I haven't lost all feeling.

We've been back an hour and already my mother is pissing me off. She won't let me go to my boyfriend's house because she wants me to relax. Relax. Relax? What the fuck? I have been sitting in the freaking car for twelve hours and now she wants me to keep sitting around doing nothing? Well Jesus Christ, excuse me if I think that's the most stupid thing I've heard all day.

Grr. I'm in a bad mood, so I'll wait and write about the rest of the trip later. Sorry to be mean. Later.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

A silence seems to fill the house now that my brother's gone. I open the pantry, leave, and come back. The food is all still there. Something is horribly wrong with this. Why the hell did he have to leave, now of all times? (Or, ever, of all times. Jeez) I miss him a lot, but there's nothing I can do except hope that he's happy and safe at the AFA. I hope he misses me, though, 'cause that would make me feel better. I cried yesterday on my boyfriend (who I did end up getting to see, finally) who doesn't like my brother. He was nice, anyway.

I've noticed a trend in most of my letters, have you? I will write about what's going on and then comes "I'm sad." Well, you'd think with all of the shit that's happening that I'd be a bit happier by now, wouldn't you? I started this journal to get out my feelings so I could start to get better. It doesn't seem to be working, does it? Hmm.

My boyfriend and I are getting along really well lately. We've settled back into the silly stage. We keep giggling and smiling and tickling and generally being dumb, but it's wonderful. It's like when you're little and you're puppy jumps on you and licks you. (Wow, that probably sounds really wrong, huh?) We kissed for the first time in a long time. I mean, really kissed each other. It was nice. Mmmmm. Warm fuzzies.

I didn't take my meds today. I really don't see any difference from when I do take it. I don't feel any worse or better or anything. I know I should've taken them, but I just wanted to be sure that they were actually doing something, and now I don't think they are doing anything. I can't figure out why I should keep taking them at all. Oh well, my mother's going to make me anyway.

I have an appointment with "Dr. Dennis" tomorrow. I don't think I like him very much. It's not that he's a bad guy or anything, it's just that I get a bad vibe from being around him. Maybe it's because I feel like he's pressuring me with his silence or maybe it's because I'm still hung up on the fact that I got pushed off onto him. Who knows, but I don't think I can tell him anything just yet. Not about what happened, not about what's happening. Not about anything important.

Well, I have to go babysit in a few minutes, so I'm going to go. I'll write again if anything interesting happens.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I feel totally alone. I miss my brother and I don't have anybody to tell. So I tell you. Always you. Why do I have to rely on figments of my imagination? Why can't I trust the people around me? I want to talk, but nobody wants to listen. Or maybe that's the problem, they are listening, but to the wrong things. God, I'm so stupid.

I tried to talk to my boyfriend today, but he wasn't up for a chat. He never really is, but it's nice to have somebody to call when you need a break from life. He kind of ignored me and then said he had to go. I asked if I could call him back, but he said, "*Sigh of consternation* Lauren, don't call me." What the hell does that mean? Well, I'm taking it to mean ever again, because he blew me off yet again for a date and I'm tired of it. If he wants to be with me, then he can just work a little harder to show it. I have enough shit to deal with right now to have to worry about him as well.

I was reading the journal of a guy who writes about his gay sexual encounters. I used to think, wow, that's the kind of life that would be great, just do what you want when you want to and not worry about any responsibility. Now I'm just wondering, is it even worth it? You invest your time and energy into every attraction, every encounter with the opposite sex (or same, depending) and for what? Nobody thinks that high school sweethearts will ever make it in the real world, so why even bother? I mean, why don't I just break up with my boyfriend and become a hermit until I'm twenty something and then get married? Will that be any better? I don't know sometimes.

Went through my brother's cell phone (well, mine now) and deleted most of his phone book. It makes me sad to know that he has way more friends than I do, but I'm not really all that jealous. Friends, for the most part, are a pain in the ass. Some of them are really worth it, but a lot of them just want to use you for something. My friend, Kandis, is using me to get closer to my boyfriend. (Even though she has her own.) He's either trying to hide the fact that she's attracted to him because he's attracted to her as well, or he's just really blind. I wonder, sometimes, but I try not to act jealous. Oh well.

I have the strangest urge to cut tonight. I don't know why, because things aren't really that bad, just a dull sadness that never seems to leave me. I want to cut tonight, but unlike any other night before. I don't want to scratch myself to feel better, I want to really cut, to forget. I want to forget everything. I want to wake up and remember nothing. I don't want visions of you, or my boyfriend, or the ER, or anything else. I just want to be left empty and alone, that way I'll never get hurt again, the way you hurt me.

I am whining, I know, but I don't mean to be. I wish I had happier letters to send to you, but I do not. I wish that I could take back every bad thing I've done and every bad thing that has been done to me because of my own stupidity, but I can't. I can't change anything now. I can't. I hate myself for that, and I think I always will.

Almost surely, I will cut. If not tonight, than some other night. I only pray that it isn't deep and that, if possible, it isn't at all. God I miss the way things used to be. Before I realized how horrible I am. Ignorance is certainly bliss, and I miss it. I miss you and my brother and my boyfriend, because as sure as you and my brother are gone, my boyfriend is also gone. He has been swept away by my insecurity and I don't know if he'll ever come back. I just hope that he either does, or he lets me go. I can't stay around forever, waiting, though I would if I thought he might come back to me.

Well, Brandon, the time has come for me to go away. To bed. To dreams. To darkness that not even you can touch me in. I'm so tired, Brandon. I'm tired and I'm scared.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Today was good, for a while. It has suddenly turned dark in a most unexpected way. My boyfriend has, I believe, broken up with me. I don't know what to do just now. I can't write about it, because I'm shocked and trying to be in denial, but it is not working. I just want to cry and scream and hurt things. Like myself.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Yep. He broke up with me. It feels a lot worse now than it did earlier, for some reason, and I can't stop crying. I know that Im being stupid, because it's my fault that everything's ruined. I always do stupid things and ruin things and push people away from me and God I hate myself. Why doesn't he love me anymore? Why has he not loved me for a long time now and just not told me about it? Why did he keep telling me he loved me when he really didn't? I don't get it. I just want to die. I was living for him (amongst a very few other things) and now he's gone. Why am I still here? I should just go, 'cause I'm not making things better by being here. I don't know what's going to happen. God, I want to die.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

You know how people always say that things look better in the morning? Well, from where I sit, things still look pretty shitty. When are things going to get better? I don't know if they ever will now. I really don't. I ruined the last thing I had left to ruin, and now I don't know what to do. As if I ever had a clue, anyway. Oh well. I'm in a really horrendously sad mood right now, so I'm going to go try to get my mind away from things that are making me sad. Sorry to waste your time. I see to be doing a lot of that lately.

Lauren