Okay - I will not say much really bad stuff. But I feel them. But you are really not a bad person even if I think you are, sometimes. That is just because you say "Come on and say what you feel". But that is a bitchy thing to say because all the stuff I want to say is bad because of all the bad people who fucked with me. And kept fucking me, and nobody cared about me. No, just fuckin' get it off. Fuckin in the hole. Fuckin in the mouth. Fuckin however like a dog. Just a bunch of horny bastards and pussies and whores and dikes and old perverts and demons and all kinds of things. So I don't fuckin care. And there are times I wish I could go off on you just to let some of this out but see you weren't there and you didn't do nothin' and you know what It wouldn't be right either. Because no matter what fucked up people did, I don't really want to be like that. I just want to say all that so it can be said and can go away. It won't make me not fucked up but maybe I can cope better. So go for it, girlfriend.
Well, hey, here I am again. Your favorite Rachel. You know, I haven't talked to that mother of mine in 6 months now. And I don't know if I ever want to. I can't play those fuckin' mind games - actually, it's not "mind" games because it's all emotional. She fucks up my emotions bad. Real bad. Pisses me off. Because I can't respond to it properly. I act like some hypnotic puppet - some whipped dog - some fucked-up kid so damn scared to say "no". Pisses me off no end. Makes me so damn mad - so mad. If she would just push me, attack me, touch me - I could fight back. I could give her a little of that medicine. But no, let's use a weapon - a hanger, a brush, a curtain rod. Let's use emotional arrows that twist inside and are poisoned. Oh yeah, that's more fair. Oh hell, yes!
I'm out of here.
Did you know there's someone here who hates you?
You know, it's a fuckin' shame that I got so angry at my brother - when, in fact, I should have been angry with that fuckin' raper and pervert and with that ice cold bitch who only cared about herself. Still, the anger is there against my brother. But I don't plan to do anything with that because he's pretty fucked-up all by himself.
Did you know you can go far enough away that knives don't hurt?
(to a previous counselor) I will be the first one to answer you. I did not think you would ask specific questions, or even if you would ask anything. But you did. About safe places. It is an interesting question to consider. We are all contemplating it. I think most of us will answer. You seem kind of unsure of yourself around us. Are you afraid? I think I might be. Maybe you are just shy. Most of us are very shy. When I need to go to a safe place - and sometimes it's only in my mind - I go to a cave. Usually, it faces east so I get the sunrise. Sometimes it is more of a tunnel than cave so it can face either east or west to always have light.
I don't think I need to be saying where my safe place is. I don't think you need to know. I don't know how committed you really are to us. You don't really show too much and trust is not our strong suit. It's not even in my hand. You give me reason to trust you, first. Then, I'll consider what info I'll share.
(to a previous counselor to Sue)
You will never know mine.
You want to know my safe place? I cannot say.
I was sick. But I didn't dare tell. No way. No way at all. I think something was very wrong, like maybe an infection down there, you know? After a few weeks, it went away.
You know what the fuckin' problem was? It was bad to be sick. It wasn't enough to be perversely coerced into sicko and painful shit. Oh no, you couldn't be sick either. Fuck no. Cuz then you might have to go to a doctor and they might find shit out. No, let's bring in one of your doctor friends. Yeah, he likes little girls - just like dad. Yeah, he'll check you out and while he's doing that, well, hey, let's get a little something because no one would know anyway -- Fuck yeah. But well beyond that yeah maybe there was an illness. Like Rebecca was really sick once. I thought she was going to die. They thought that might solve some of the problem of them getting caught, you know. It was like what an allergic reaction is because she got all scratchy and red and wasn't breathing right and finally they took her to the hospital. She didn't die but I guess she wishes she would have. I don't blame her.