The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Ok, quick update. I still don't know what's wrong with her, but they were saying something about tests, ultra sounds, cat scans, and all this other shit. They've been giving her so many damn tests ever since she's been admitted. She has all these tubes connected to her and they don't know how long they have to keep her for. I know we fight and everything, but I still love her and I'm kind of freaking here. It reminded me of how she found a lump on her breast a while ago, but never got it checked out and now I'm starting to think the worst. I absolutely despise hospitals. I know a lot of people do, but I've never walked into a hospital and not have something really bad happen. She looks and sounds so bad and every other person that I've visited in a hospital who looked like she did never came out again, at least not breathing. I'm going to try and chill out now and maybe go for a walk or something. I had to get out of there and I have to go and clear my head again. I look fine on the outside, but inside, well now that’s a whole different ball park. It's all I can fuckin' think about, so I'm out. Later.

I just got a call this morning and my mother's in the hospital. Ok, before I get ahead of myself here, my sister got back from Vegas last night and the whole time that she was gone my mother was at her boyfriend's house. She called me a couple times and told me that she'd been pretty sick the whole time and that she felt like her condition was getting worse. I thought that she was just overreacting as she usually does, but then I woke up this morning and got the call. I still have no idea what's wrong with her. All I know is that she's sick, dehydrated, and needs oxygen or something along those lines. I feel kind of bad for not believing her before, but it's what she usually does. I don't know when they'll release her or anything, but hopefully I'll figure it out eventually.



Other then that, like I said my sister and her boyfriend got back from Vegas last night and we all hung out for a little while last night. She got me some shirt and told me all these crazy stories, but I can't seem to really focus on that right now. I'll try and write more later once I’m able to clear my head and think more about things. There are so many other things that I have to say, but I’ll save those stories for later on, possibly today, but then again maybe not. I have to see what’s up with my mother first. Later.

Where to begin you ask? Well, I left off with the lawyer coming over so that’s where I’ll start. He was here for a few hours and everything was signed and sealed, so the house is now officially on the market once again. My sister just left about 20 minutes ago to catch her flight and my mother left a little while before that. My grandmother was over for a few hours earlier, but I didn't really hang out with her too much or anything. A few things recently came to light for my mother about her relationship with her boyfriend. She found out that he was looking around at other ‘prospects’. This is a man who recently put her on his life insurance policy and talked about buying a place together. His birthday is next Tuesday so she decided to keep things the way they were, or currently are, until then, which is nice for him, but kind of fucked up for her. I don't want to sound mean or anything, but now she's going to be here a lot more often and our relationship is better off when we rarely see each other. I feel as if I'm going a little more crazy every day that I stay here, so all that I can do is get up off of my ass and start doing things again. I used to be so fuckin' active and was never here, which is something that I'll have to start doing again now.



I’ve been thinking a lot about calling up some of my old friends and just saying to hell with it all, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if I go down that road again it’ll be for the last time and that’s not something that I ready for. My ex’s actually called me about a week ago and I didn’t pick up, then they tried me a few more times and finally I just e-mailed them. They got back to me, but I kind of ignored it. That’s another thing that I shouldn’t touch upon right now either. I know that I’m the one that fucked that whole deal up, but it was also poisoning me in a way. It was like that perfect high you can get sometimes, but when you factor in the after effects it’s not always worth those perfect moments of oblivion and acceptance.



Damn, just when I was writing that last bit someone rang my doorbell and it almost gave me a fuckin’ heart attack. That’s the second time today and I only got kind of freaked because strange things have happened before here that started off that way. People I didn’t know have come here before, calling my name and all but trying to break the door down. Other times they’ve actually come inside, thought I wasn’t here, and then went back outside only to bang on the door and wait. Then they’d leave, come back and do the whole thing all over again. Ok, enough of that right now. I have some weird ass unmarked package that was left for me and I’m off to open it now, so hold on a sec. The curiosity is just about killing me here. Ok, I’m back. I got some weird ass knife set, no note or anything. Very strange, but not that unusual if I really think about it. I’ll take it, for now at least. I should get going and try and do something at least semi-productive, so later.

I'm bored out of my skull at the moment, but some attorney is supposed to drop by in a few hours to finalize the house going on the market or some shit like that. So now I have to wait around for my mother to get here and for him to come because I need to be there as a witness and sign some papers. The only reason she asked me was because she said that everyone else was busy and that she needs someone who's 18 or over to sign. That's the thing. I hate how people can always be so presumptuous or just expect you to get out of plans for something that they want or need you to do for them. I'm not too mad about it because it's come to be expected, but it's still not all candy hearts and rainbows. Before she even asked me about that the first thing she said when I picked up the phone was 'Angie's going to Vegas?' I was like, dude she's 26 and you're never here for her to let you know anyway. Geesh talk about control freak. Then she started yelling about how I have to clean the whole house before the lawyer comes over and he's only probably going to see the living room and maybe kitchen. I'm just going to pop in some more 'fun' tunes, relax, burn some incense, read a book and try and chill for a little while. As soon as they all leave though, all bet's are off. Maybe I'll get ready and see what's going on around here, but considering that it's only a Tuesday night, there's probably not anything too exciting happening. I’m out. Late.

Hmmm....what's going on in my crazy world you ask? Well, I hung out with Pat and Ang for a little while last night. Pat is my sister's boyfriend and Ang is my sister Angelique. Her boyfriend and me always screw around with each other (playfully) and flirt, but it's all in good fun. She used to get pretty jealous at first, but I guess she's gotten used to it. Before she even started going out with him he told me that I had a sexy voice and ever since then we always flirt whenever we're in the same place. The first time I met him was actually before they started going out. I had actually gone to his work to apply for a job. He saw me and asked me if I was there for community service and I pretended to get all offended and he didn't know what the hell to say. Then I told him that Ang was my sister and he started asking me what he should say to her and what kinds of things she liked. I could tell right away how much he liked her and it was so annoyingly cute.



On another note, my sister and I were talking about setting up a sex phone operation and I'm not sure if we actually meant it or not, but I think it'd actually be pretty cool. So, all in good practice, when the phone rang and I saw that it was Pat I said, "Hello, you've reached 1-800-Hot-Sexx. This is Amber speaking. How may I service you?” I had picked up the phone right when the answering machine was starting so he thought it was a message at first. It was so funny because he started sputtering and saying umm... I uh...and was all embarrassed. I started to laugh a little part way through, but you could hardly tell, and as soon as I was finished I busted out laughing so he knew that it was me. It was just too damn funny. Then he came over a little while after that last night and we all hung out for a few hours.



My sis and her boy toy are actually going to Vegas this Thursday for some muscle man competition that he likes to go to every year and are coming back on Sunday. I told them to bring me back some fun and interesting people as souvenirs. My mother went to her doctor to try and get off work on ‘stress leave’ and I guess it worked because she’s not at work now, but at least she’s at her boyfriend’s house and not here. She said that she can’t stand her job anymore and that she’d rather work at Micky D’s. The thing is that she makes her own hours there and doesn’t even go in much anymore. In the past few months she’s probably taken off about half that time as vacation time with a few sick days in between. Things on my part are starting to get really iffy again and I’ve been getting the feeling that she’s gonna wind up kicking me out any day now, but this time I have no where to go. That’s why I need to find a place ASAP and one that’s far enough away from here, in order for things to go as smoothly as possible. I don’t really have much else to say at the moment so I bid you’ll adieu.

I was just checking out the bisexual thread and it got me thinking about my first sexual experience. I can say with 100% clarity that I'm bisexual and my first sexual experiences were actually with another girl. It started when I was at the age where I was too young to really know what sex was. Sure, I had a general grasp of it, but I didn't really know all that it entitled. The first girl I was with was my uncle's girlfriends daughter and don't get excited now, because we were both too young to do anything too serious other then some groping and kissing. Thinking back to that time I remember how she would sometimes make up these really strange games about this man watching us and how we had to do what he said. At the time I didn't really give it much thought and just went along with it. When I look back on it today I realize that she was corrupted at a very young age and I was never the wiser back then. So many people are corrupted in one way or another, I mean it's inevitable, but certain things just shouldn't be. I have so much to say, but I can't seem to really get it out right now. I'm starting to get that feeling that I sometimes get where my chest feels heavy and my heart hurts, so I'm just going to go and chill out for now. I may or may not be back later to finish, but for now, until next time...

I'm so completely frustrated right now and I just need to relieve some of this stress. Object of anger, specifically my mother. For the past 8 or 9 years she's been going back to college and finally graduates next year, but I always end up doing most of her work. Take her last paper for example. I did all the research, typed almost everything and rechecked it all. She gets almost all A's, but if I didn't do most of her work for her she wouldn't. I've tried to tell her before how that's plagiarism, but she won’t listen and insists that I do them and then she takes all the credit. The thing is that I have to do them or she'll kick me out on my ass like she's done many times before. So I just have to play it cool until I move out again.



Sometimes I feel as if my mother and everything else that’s fucked up in my world will drive me completely mad one day. I mean, she's hardly ever here and when she is, all she ever does if yell about how everything is a complete mess and to clean it the fuck up right away. Then she rants on and on about how there's never any food in this house. News flash, she's never here to buy anything, so my sister and I always figure out something for ourselves to eat.



She accuses me of everything too. Every single time that something of her's goes missing, I'm the first one that she blames. She always insists that I steal her things and if she finds them then she swears that she checked there and that I must have put them there in the first place. One time, she even flipped out and tried to rip apart my entire room looking for a pair of her shorts and we don't even have the same sense of style. Just thinking about this is bringing back more memories, and when it comes to me, that's never a good thing.



Now I'm thinking about that time I was thrown down the stairs when I was like 2 or 3, or all those times when I'd visit my father and he'd get pissed, drunk, or both and hit me, then lock me in my room, or a closet, for days without any food or anything else. This isn’t related, but there was this one time when one of my girl's and I were kind of fucked up and she was grounded, so we jumped out of her third story window. Her parent’s then proceeded to try and sue me and said that I wrecked the side paneling of their house.



Another memory is when I came back from my father's, after I lived there for those 6 months, and he swore that he'd leave me alone for the first time in my entire life. Then he dragged me to court and said that my mother's boyfriend was the one who was beating me, and that he wanted custody of me, rich huh? Then there was this other time when I was in around 6th grade and I was walking home with a friend from her house. I remember seeing my father’s car and freaking out because that was a few days after I found out what he’d done to my sister. I made my friend take me back to her house and hide me out until he left. While we're reminiscing here, I've been hit by a car twice and hit/got hit by one once. I almost died from the chicken pox when I was little and came so close that I flat lined for a few seconds, so I guess that technically I was dead for a little while.



My family has so many secrets that sometimes it’s almost sickening to think about all of them. I definitely have my fair share of secrets though. Some of the one’s that aren’t too heavy are that my sister’s father isn’t her real father and she only found out a few years ago. Another is that my grandmother had a son with my grandfather’s brother when my grandfather had gone off to war. She gave the kid up for adoption and would have taken that secret to her grave if he hadn’t found her after his adoptive parent’s passed away. So he’s my cousin and my uncle, but I met him for the first time and few years ago and he was pretty cool. To try and say everything here would simply take forever so maybe I’ll just let a few leak out every now and then, if I’m up for it at the time that is. I have a feeling that all of my thoughts are as jumbled up and smooshed together in my writing, as they feel right now, so I’m not even going to bother to try and make things clearer. I just needed to vent, so that’s exactly what I did. I’m out, for now at least. Late.

I've been through and have experienced so many things, but when I take the time to really think about them, it's almost like their someone else's life and memories. A lot of my memories are foggy and distorted, like how dreams can be sometimes, but that might just be all the past drug usage talking here. :-) I still smoke pot every now and then, but that's not the point. That reminds me of something else, which in turn reminds me of something else yet again, but that’s talk for later, if ever.



Whenever I run into people that I used to hang out with, I look at them and think, hey that used to be me. Then I can't help but cringe and look away. I ran into some old friends not too long ago and they looked tired, dirty, way too thin, like they hadn't eaten in forever, and high as a fuckin' space ship, and I'm not talking about just weed.



I felt so bad when I saw them like that. They may have screwed me over time and time again, but they still used to be my friends, and I used to be just like them. I bought them both some food and drinks and it made me feel even sadder because I knew that if I simply gave them the money they'd most likely spend it on more hard core drugs. Then they called some people and asked them to come and pick them up.



They asked me if I wanted to come along and I knew without a doubt that wasn't what I wanted for myself anymore. That's also when I knew that I would be ok. Kind of cheesy or whatever, I know, but that's exactly how things went. So I told them no and still felt a little bad for letting them go off with people that they obviously barely even knew, but we all make our beds and then have to lie in them whether we like it or not. Hopefully they'll learn just like I did, but you never know.



Now on to other thoughts, hmmm.... well I need to find some new and more stable people to spend my time with. I also need to find something fun to do before I go even more stir crazy then I already am. CT sucks with the whole not having anything to do thing, yet another reason to leave. Well, I'm off now. Late my lovely lovelies.



(The headline just wouldn't leave me alone unless I used it, even though it doesn't really apply, yet kind of does in the oddest way, at least to me. I've been listening to Pat Benatar and that song just came on when I was thinking of a headline, so sue me, but please don't. :-)

Now that I've told you a little about my past, why not let you in on my present. Let's see, I've been thinking a lot over the past few years, but especialy recently, about moving. I need to get away from here on a permanent vacation. My sister suggested that I wait until next summer since my mother is selling the house then, and just get a place with her. One, I don't think I can wait that long, but you never know and two, I really need to do this on my own, or maybe even with a friend. I've talked to a few different people about possibly rooming together, but those plans kind of ended up falling through. I just want to go some place that's at least semi warm with cool people and a cool roommate. I know that you can't run from your problems, but that's not what I'm doing this time, honest. I'm finally beginning to heal and I really need something like this, a fresh start of sorts, where I can just be me.



I currently need to get a new job, so that should be tons of fun, but I'll do whatever I have to in order to try and make it in this world of ours. I enjoy a lot of things, but I'm still not sure what I'd like to do in the long run. I also don't really know what else to write at the moment. When I came to write another entry I thought I'd write, at the very least, a bit more than this, but I guess not. I suppose that I'll update whenever the mood strikes me, whether it's 5 times a day, once a day, or every few days, but knowing me, it'll probably be pretty often. Until next time...

The main question would be, where to begin? Well, there are so many things that I could just lay out there without a second thought, but I’ll start easy for now. It seems that everywhere I look someone that I know or knew is dying or has recently passed away. I refused to go to any of their funerals though because everyone is always too emotional and it makes me feel kind of shitty when everyone else around me is crying and I’m the only one with dry eyes in the entire place. I know that death is inevitable, no matter what or who you are, but that doesn’t mean that it still doesn’t suck when someone dies on you.



Other then that, my brother has once again emerged and like every other time, it’s only because he wants something. I love him and everything, but the only times he ever calls is when he needs something, whether it’s money, a ride, food or a place to stay. I understand that he hasn’t had the greatest life, but I mean come on, welcome to the fuckin’ club. Sure, he was in foster care for a while, beat, lived on the streets, was an addict and about a million other things, but subtract the foster care and add getting kicked out of your house at 15 and there’s me in a nut shell.



I’ve never been one to beg and I’ve only done so twice in my entire life and to the same person, my mother. I love her too, but she’s not always the sharpest crayon in the box, or at least that’s what she likes to pretend. She’s one of those people who will completely disregard something that you tell her is she doesn’t like the outcome, and then pretend like nothing ever happened. Like when I told her that I was bisexual, she asked me a few questions, said it was just a faze that I was going through and then pretended like the conversation never happened in the first place. Even though she has her faults, I’m glad that she’s finally at a somewhat happy time in her life and has someone who treats her right.



For as long as I can remember, she’s always had a constant stream of ‘boyfriends’ who I’d meet maybe once and then she’d move them right on in. She's never around much either, but getting into all of that would take far too long right now. Let me get back to where I previously was. If you want to know the whole general gist of the story then I have to start with my ‘father’. Let’s just say that he always been a very volatile man and that’s the main reason that my mother ended up divorcing him when I was about 3. I went with my mother and my brother went with my father. My older sister wasn’t my father’s child so she came with my mother and me. When I was very young, I guess that you could consider me a daddy’s girl, but that was only because I didn’t know any better at the time.



Ever since the divorce, my mother had always held some hidden hate against my father, and when I was older I found out the main reason for it. My father sexually abused my sister when she was younger and not only that, but he used to beat my brother daily. I didn’t get nearly as much as he did because I lived with my mother, but whenever I’d visit him I'd be his personal punching bag too. To really describe everything that happened would take far to long so I’ll just give you’ll the shortened version. Let’s just say that everyone found out about my father abusing my brother, but when they had me testify in court I lied and said that he’d never hit me before. Sure, I mean it sucked when he’d beat me, but it was worse to watch him hurt my brother.



There were so many times that I thought he was going to kill him and he nearly did quite a few times. Alcoholism and drug abuse run in both of my families, so let’s just say that it wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone when my brother became an addict. He went from rehab to rehab and was finally taken away from my father and put into foster care. During this time I was starting to get more heavily into drugs as well. I probably only got to visit my brother a hand full of times over the years that he was in the system. Then one day we got a phone call that he had run away and no one could find him.



Practically every day for the next year I would wonder what happened to him and what he was doing, if he was dead or alive. Finally he ended up turning himself in a little over a year later. Not too long after that, I ended up becoming better friends with this girl I used to know. We started skipping and leaving school together and getting fucked up all the time. I guess you could say that we were ‘friends with benefits’. Then the following Halloween, I ended up running into some more old friends. I started hanging out with them and we would get high and drunk practically every day. Right before and after school, nights, weekends, you name it and we were there. I introduced the girl to my new/old group of friends and let’s just say that was something that I shouldn’t have done.



We all became pretty tight, or as tight as people who all you did was party with and have sex with could be. That’s when I started getting into heavier drugs. We’d go out and party around here, or hop a train and head to New York for some more partying all the time. One girl in my group, the rich girl, would always steal checks from her father, sign them and then get other people to cash them, so she always had a ready supply of cash in hand. I ended up breaking my curfew and coming in late quite a few times. A couple of those times my mother called the police on me and a few others she tried to get them to arrest me, or at least leave me in juvie for the night.



Things pretty much spiraled out of control and to add to the list, I had already been a self mutilator for years. I was mostly a cutter, but every now and then I’d burn myself too. My mother only found out about it by reading my diary and then she told my therapist. Yes, this whole time I was in therapy regularly and had been since I was 3, you know, due to the whole divorce and all. I told them I stopped, which was a complete lie, and they believed me so eventually it was dropped.



One night after cheerleading practice, yes I was a cheerleader, but I was the odd one out of the bunch, well one time after that my mother and I got into a huge fight. She kicked, or rather pushed, me out of the car in the middle of the highway and left me there. Then I ran in the opposite direction for some time until she finally came back and demanded that I get into the car. Eventually I did and as soon as we got home, I grabbed the phone and barricaded myself in my room. They proceeded to turn off the electricity because they thought I was going to call the police on them.



Then my mother and her boyfriend tried to break my door down. They gave up after a while and when I finally left the door to try and escape out of my window they busted my lock and broke my door open. I tried to close the door, but my mother’s arm was caught in it, so I opened it only to have the both of them pounce on me. Her boyfriend was a big guy and he had his arms wrapped around neck, cutting off my circulation and I barley got out that I couldn’t breathe. I finally got away and ran out of the house and they told me that if I left to never come back. I ran to a neighbors house and called the police. My mother and her boyfriend lied and said that I was the one at fault and of course the cops believed them over me. They said I almost broke her arm and tried to get me put in juvie, but at least that didn’t pan out.



After that, I got even more into drugs and partying. She called the cops on me many other times and tried to get me sent away somewhere, anywhere other then where I currently was. I eventually called my father, who I hadn’t spoken to in quite some time and begged him to let me stay with him, cause it had to be better then where I currently was, right? I moved out to Mass for a while and was even more constantly depressed. I had been on anti depressants, ADD meds and many others, but hadn’t been for a while at that point. I was still cutting, druging, drinking and partying there, but also cut off from most other people. I enrolled in school to try and finish the second half of my sophomore year, but dropped out a few weeks later and ended up getting my GED.



I constantly thought about killing myself while I was up there for those 6 months, not that I hadn’t before that, but it had gotten much worse. My brother ended up reading my journal and found out that I was still cutting myself and how suicidal I really was. I ended up begging my mother to let me come back and finally she caved. I came back and was enrolled in more therapy and was ok for a while, until I ran into some old ‘friends’. I’ve done so many different drugs that whenever somone would give me any I never asked what it was any more. To me a drug was a drug and an escape from reality for a little while either way. We started partying again and I wound up being hospitalized for an OD and had to get my stomach pumped and the works. I almost died and had to stay in the hospital for a while.



I started even more therapy and was enrolled into another drug program and went to a few AA meetings. None of it really worked for me, but I tried. I cut off most ties from my old friends and was able to at least semi forgive my mother. I got a job for a while, but ended up quitting and then once again cut myself off from almost everyone and everything. I had always been a very active person and full of life, but practically became a hermit for over a year and a half. I hardly ever went out or talked to anyone. I broke most of the plans I’d make because I couldn’t bare to go out into the world once again, only to be disappointed and go down the same path once again. I’ve been slowing integrating myself back into society and I feel awkward and unsure sometimes, which is something that I’d never been before all of this shit had taken place. My healing process has been slow and very painful, but I’ve been trying to cope as best as I know how.



What I wrote today isn’t even half of what happened to me, but it’s enough. I’ve only ever told two other people what I just wrote and I didn’t even tell them all of it, just like I only told you’ll a portion of things. I just think that I really needed to get that off my chest and now I feel like I can breathe a little easier, even though this is only typed, it helps a lot. I probably have a lot of typos and shit, which usually bother me, but right now I could care less. It was hard enough actually having to think about everything again, so I’m just going to leave things as they are for now. If any of you just read all of that then don’t mind me, I’m just a complete spazz. I think that’s more then enough serious talk for the time being. Peace. I’m out.



~Diana



P.S.~ If the headline seems familiar, it's from a collection of Maggie Shayne books. Late.