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brokenfaery Profile
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Registered: 12-2005
Location: Perth, WA
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story/memoir thingy ***very trig***


ok so i have to write a memoir thing for holiday work for my tee next year and thought i'd share it...names have been changed and stuff like that and i've only done the first part but here goes...names changed and all that...
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***v. trig***
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if its too trigering u can take it off


What does it mean to be a special daughter? Does it mean you have to be a perfect child? Flawless? Without fault? To me it means all of those and that means I fail. Kate was the perfect sister to me. That didn’t mean that I didn’t see her imperfections, I did, it just meant that I loved her more than I loved anyone and the best part is I knew she loved me back. Alex was younger than both of us and naïve in the way that a child is. It didn’t mean that we didn’t love him, because we did. It just meant that we didn’t understand him. We didn’t share that common bond that Kate and I had. Now that common bond wasn’t just sisterhood, that common bond was also our mental instability, the thing that made me, no us fail as that special daughter.
My name is Elenore. I prefer to be called Ellie though. This is a story, or maybe a journal about times with Kate and Alex, the good times and the bad times, especially the bad times. We’ve been through so many, many together, many more alone.The first story involves the two of us, Kate and myself. It introduces you to that common bond that Kate and myself share, the very thing that separates us from Alex, Alex’s saving grace.Kate no longer lived at home. By home I mean my parents house. She had moved years earlier. I guess I was around 14, so she had been out of the house for 3 or 4 years. It partly wasn’t by choice. Don’t get me wrong, Kate didn’t want to live with our parent’s, she had very few good things to say about them, she had very little in common with them and basically didn’t have a good relationship with them at all. Kate had very little respect for them. Kate was 6 years older than me and by the age of 15 was already in her first mental institution. Doctors knew she self-harmed, my parents knew she self-harmed, everyone knew in fact. It was after the overdose however that she ended up in there. For the time after that she was always in and out of mental hospitals. I on the other hand still lived at home, which is kind of ironic considering I was just as screwed up as Kate was, the only difference being that most people didn’t know about my problems. My parents knew that I had self-harmed, but didn’t believe I was still doing it. The same was for Kate. As for anyone else, they had no idea. There were no professionals involved. No one knew about the numerous overdoses I had taken, the increasing self harm, the continuous path of self destruction. No one knew about the self hatred, about the suicidal thoughts, about the constant feelings of depression and hopelessness, I just put on a mask and went around happy and cheerful. Nobody guessed a thing.Anyway back to the story, Kate had come to visit, she had been released from hospital recently but still had to go for checkups. The three of us were playing happily together. It was what we call a “family moment”. I think we were playing monopoly or something along those lines. Kate disappeared off for a few moments, we all knew she had to go out soon and were making the most of our time with her. While she was away Alex asked if I would play with him once Kate had gone. I reluctantly agreed. A few moments later Kate offered me a better offer. She asked me to go with her when she went out. I agreed straight away, not entirely certain where we were going, but thinking it was probably the hospital. We arrived at the hospital a little after 11 I guess...

Last edited by brokenfaery, 19/12/06, 14:39


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***huggles*** marie
19/12/06, 14:37 Link to this post   
 
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Re: story/memoir thingy ***very trig***


it was pretty early in the day any how. It wasn’t like the adolescent hospital she’d spent so much time in, with all its screwed up teenagers, no this was different. Adults sat rocking back and forth in the lounge chairs, moaning and mumbling to themselves. It would have been scary, except I’d seen it all before, I’d done it all before. Kate took my hand and squeezed it before leading me to the meeting room. I stood quietly against the wall, Kate made herself totally at home, plonking herself into one of the over stuffed couches while she waited for her meeting with her case worker Amanda and the duty social worker Jilly. Now I knew Jilly well. She had assessed me once and I’d seen her heaps of times with Kate and my parents but I’d only seen Amanda once or twice, Kate said mainly good things about her though.Amanda walked into the room first; she looked at me and smiled. I sort of just looked at the floor. I didn’t realise Jilly was in the doorway, not until she said cheerfully “hello Ellie, nice to see you” I looked back down at the floor and sort of mumbled thanks, but I don’t think she really heard me. She gave me a funny look. It made me go all shuddery. I just wanted to get out of that room. I could feel my panic rising, making me feel sick, I could hardly breathe. No one seemed to notice though. I was so thankful for that. I had to keep on my mask, especially now, especially here, surrounded by people who would see right through it if I let them. I stood quietly against the wall and let Kate have her meeting.The meeting was long and boring, like usual. Kate kept looking at me and rolling her eyes. It took all the strength I had not to laugh, I just kept turning away, but when I did that I almost cried. I don’t know what about or why. I just had to keep looking forward, at the pictures in the room, not at Kate and not away from Kate. Kind of confusing really. They decided that Kate was doing well. I glanced down at her when they said this. She was beaming from ear to ear. It just made me more panicky. I felt sick to the stomach. I almost had to run from the room. Jilly was looking at me in an odd way. Looking back I know that she must have known something was wrong, that I was a head case or something. I mean she knew me well enough to pick it up. She could tell I wasn’t what my mask made me out to be, happy and bubbly. I was paranoid and panicky and felt like everything was closing in around me. I spoke up for the first time. “I’m just nipping out to get a drink” I mumbled. Kate looked at me and smiled, completely oblivious to the mess I was in. I think she just didn’t want to know how screwed up her little sister was. I can’t blame her really; I mean I did the same thing with her at the beginning. I wasn’t ashamed; I just didn’t want to know, so I didn’t. I got to the bathroom and that’s when I just fell apart. I was terrified; I thought everyone was out to get me. I locked the door and unlocked it and locked it over and over again, just to make sure it was locked cos I knew they were coming to get me, I knew they wanted me dead and the worst thing was I couldn’t reason with them. I started panicking. It turned into the biggest panic attack I’ve ever had. I hated myself so much and I just wanted all the thoughts and the pain to stop. I just wanted it all to stop. I hunted through my bag frantically and eventually found what I was looking for, my razor blade. I cut over and over again, there was blood everywhere and I mean everywhere, but I couldn’t think, I just had to get out of there, so that’s what I did. I covered my arms with my shirt and I ran out of the bathroom, out of the building, through the grounds and as far away as I could get, without telling anybody.Someone must have seen me leave cos that’s where everything went down hill. About 10 minutes later Kate left her meeting, breezing into the corridor looking for me. One of the nurses, Jenny, walked over to her and took her to one side, Jilly was there too. Jenny told her I’d left. Kate went crazy. She started shouting and screaming, totally out of control. Another nurse tried to calm her down while Jenny and Jilly talked. Jenny must have told Jilly that I darted from the toilets about as fast as I could and Jilly wasn’t stupid, she must have guessed what had happened. Anyway, she went to look in the toilet. No one had used it since; no one had cleaned up the blood I’d left behind me, my secrets were all unraveling faster and faster. Jilly must have had a look of horror on her face when she entered the toilet. Blood was everywhere. She called Jenny over and told her to get someone to clean the toilet. She told her that she had to call the police.
Kate knew something was wrong, she knew I wouldn’t just leave for no reason, she knew I wouldn’t just run off without something being wrong, I just don’t think she realized quite how serious it was.


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***huggles*** marie
19/12/06, 14:38 Link to this post   
 
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Re: story/memoir thingy ***very trig***


Jilly was on the phone for quite a while, the worry was on her face. She felt angry at herself that she hadn’t spoken to me when she knew something was wrong, just a case of wrong place and time I guess, but that didn’t make her feel any better. The police were equally as concerned. A 14 year old girl with a mental illness, covered in self inflicted cuts, run away. It was a recipe for disaster; even I can see that now. Kate must have somehow heard part of what Jilly was saying, enough to work out that I’d cut myself. She had calmed down a little but this time she lost it, really lost it. She started screaming, ranting and raving about me, about how stupid I’d been. I think it hit her then that this wasn’t the first time. Maybe she felt guilty, I don’t know. I just know that for a few minutes she hated me. The hate quickly turned to anger, but the hate had been there and no one could take it away, no one could hide it or pretend it hadn’t happened, especially not me. I could learn to forgive, but I could never forget, especially since I had never freaked out at her, I had never hated her for what she did to herself. We’d started cutting around the same time, both oblivious of what each other was doing. I understood her, even though I didn’t want to believe what she was doing, I never hated her, not once, yet she had immediately hated me. That hurt, it hurt a lot. The anger bubbled on the surface. It didn’t go away for a long time. A lot happened before she finally calmed down, understood, accepted. It was a long time before Kate would talk to me calmly, talk to me like we once had. It hurt our relationship more than anything ever had before. Despite the anger however Kate worried about me. I guess she went crazy with worry and maybe that was why she was so angry. She had always adored me, we were so close. She couldn’t bear for me to be hurting like she hurt, she couldn’t bear the thought that I was going through similar things to her, painful things. She wanted my life to be perfect in the ways that hers weren’t.Meanwhile I was on the run, hiding from Kate, from anyone who was after me, everyone who was after me but most of all hiding from myself. I had money somehow, I don’t know where I got it from, but I had it. I caught train after train, all around the country, from one city to the next, day after day. In between the trains I cut, I cut on the train, at the station, anywhere I could. I knew they were after me, they had it in for me, they wanted to get me, to kill me, and they made me want to kill me. I couldn’t rationalize anything; all I could do was cut. I cut four or five times a day, sometimes more, deep cuts, lots of cuts, there was hardly a place on my body that wasn’t covered, even my neck and my face was. People looked at me, they stared. I’m certain they did. I’m positive they did. It made me freak out, made me want to hide more, to cut more, to try and escape everything more. Sometime after Jilly called the police, the police visited my parents. They were told I’d gone missing, I’d run away, that I was in a bad mental state, that I’d self harmed. They went into huge denial. They couldn’t believe that their little girl was doing that to herself. They didn’t stop to think that they’d caused it. Kate became the scapegoat. It was Kate they blamed, she should have kept an eye on me, looked after me better, not let me out of her sight. I don’t think they realized that at 14, I’m entitled to have a bit of freedom. They blamed Kate about the self harm, that she had caused it, that I’d copied her, they didn’t realise that I’d been cutting long before I knew that Kate was, they didn’t find out until after they’d found out about Kate, therefore it was her fault. Kate could never do anything right in their eyes. Jilly went to see my parents shortly after the police. She tried to calm them down; she tried to tell them that mentally I was not well; they just didn’t want to know. They started going on and on about how it was all Kate’s fault to her, but Jilly wouldn’t have any of it. She told them that Kate had done absolutely nothing wrong, she backed up Kate’s story but I still don’t think my parents were convinced. At least Kate had someone on her side though.I can’t remember how long I’d been hiding for, it’s all a blur now but somehow they found me, the police that is. I had cuts all over my body, cuts that needed medical attention long ago. I was hysterical. I wouldn’t let them near me. I was convinced that they were out to get me, not out to help me. It took 4 or 5 of them to get me into a car, to get me to the nearest hospital for my wounds to be treated, for me to be assessed by a mental health team, for them to be told what they already knew, that I was psychotic and unstable. It didn’t take the team long to say I needed to go into a psych ward, they took one look at me and I think they decided on the spot. I was like all those people at Kate’s old hospital, rocking back and forth, mumbling to myself.I was taken back to my local adolescent psych ward. It was the one Kate had been in. The journey was long; I was a long way from home. I don’t know how I got so far. I guess I just had to keep running. I was put in a room with no doors, where I could have an eye kept on me all the time, 24/7. I couldn’t do anything without having someone watching me. They had me assessed by a shrink the first morning I was there, he ordered me drugs, quite a lot of them, an anti psychotic and an anti depressant, both high doses. They must have worked pretty quickly cos I didn’t care that I was being watched constantly, I was just so exhausted, and all I wanted to do was sleep. It was the best thing for me, I hadn’t slept in days. The pills must have worked cos pretty soon I felt kind of at peace. I still hated myself, I still needed to cut, all the time, but the voices had stopped, the paranoia had stopped and soon I didn’t even feel really sleepy.After that first appointment with the shrink I didn’t talk to anyone, I sort of shut down. I couldn’t explain how I was feeling and I didn’t even want to bother. I couldn’t tell them what was going on in my head, I didn’t understand it myself, let alone be able to tell someone else.Kate came to visit me early on. I guess it was as hard for her as it was for me, but I still wasn’t talking so I just took everything she said. All the anger she had felt came out on me that day. She just went on and on and I just sat there and looked past her, not even at her. I guess she eventually ran out of steam because the next thing I remember is that I’ve got nurses grabbing my arms to stop me clawing at old wounds and Kate just walking off. After a few days I was appointed a social worker. It was quite amazing actually cos Jilly was the one I got. I don’t think it was because she knew part of the story, I think it was just her turn to be allocated or something, but it worked out well. After a couple of weeks, she eventually coaxed me into talking and out it all came, everything. Everything that I thought, everything that I felt, everything that had happened to lead me to where I was. I talked to Jilly, to my shrink, to my therapist, to the nurses; eventually I even talked to the other patients. The self harm didn’t stop though, things happen even in hospital and it was the only way I knew to cope. It was my longest hospital stay. I was in there around 6 months. 6 months of private schooling, of constantly being watched, of having someone make me eat my meals and watch me take my pills. It probably saved my life though.
 its kinda long. If u read thankies ***hugs***

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***huggles*** marie
19/12/06, 14:38 Link to this post   
 
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Registered: 12-2005
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its very very good honey xx

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Its not about where youre at, its where youre going that matters!!


19/12/06, 16:29 Link to this post   
 
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Registered: 01-2006
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wow hunni that an amazing story and well dne for posting that
si xxx

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IF YOUR NOT LIVING YOUR LIFE ON THE EDGE YOUR TAKING UP TOO MUCH ROOM!!!!

19/12/06, 16:44 Link to this post   
 
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emoticon xxxx

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19/12/06, 17:28 Link to this post   
 


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