First, I had a variety of worms. I know, ohmygod it appears I'm fucking nuts. Want to know why I'm so thin? I'm not anorexic or bulemic--I've got a goddamned tape worm. I wowwed my dad with it and he wouldn't get out of bed to take me to the doctor because he's tired (i believe he's really ill and I'm worried about him, but I'm so fucking pissed and ill that I'm trying to save myself). I also drank a bottle of Pin-x to rid myself of pin worms.

Secondly, I'm allergic to all the molds and dust in this house. The doctor was smart enough to tell me to bring the vacuum bag in. Brilliant! Among all the variety of offensive things in the bag that set my lymphatic system to a 4 alarm fire was merely mold mites. Also, my skin has circles on it.....not from faeries dancing around their fire, but from ringwormn. So, antiunglas are in my diet.

Thirdly, and the one that pisses me off because I showed my Dad the brown recluse that I thought bit me about 3 days before he COMMITTED me to a mental hospital. Well, now I've collected 8. Eight of these little gems. Today my doctor gave me a shot of Rocephin and redrew the circle he drew on my "special area" and prescribed a 10-day supply of Avelox.
My wound is getting really large and is near my "who who" or what Oprah and Gail call the "Va he he" and this thing is seeping at the bite site and the ring of huge blisters.

I have a temperature and my mom had the nerve to suggest that I move here for psychological help. I am so lonely. My dad reads the paper, does cross words, naps, and watches TV, but he doesn't WANT to talk to me. I cried telling him that I felt lonely and hurt that he appeared to not care. He said something like, "I'm sick of watching you cry, and I'm going to take a nap." He actually said during a bad Van Damm (sp) movie when I was talking to him about guns (I tried talking to him about a subject he LOVES) and he turned to me and said, "Are we going to chat or watch the movie?" I said, "I'd like to talk since I'm lonely," and he just ignored me. I said, "Dad, can you hear me?" He said, "I heard you. I'm going to watch the movie."

I'm so sad. Lonely. BROKE.

My head hurts. I'm on so many drugs for all this shit that has happened--including psych drugs.

I NOW KNOW HOW BAD THIS SHITTY FAMILY CAN MAKE ME FEEL. I am going to live a good and better life. I'm going to try to make a life for myself--which includes moving.

The sad thing is I really love my father. When I attempted suicide in 2003, he was so heroic to me. Now, he falls so short of my olf dad. I love him, and I want to remember the food that he produced. He was a hard core drunk and drug addict until I was like 10. Then I was raped by 3 "friends" on my 12th birthday. I was so screwwed up.

My husband and I divorced because I couldn't have sex with him because of PTSD. He was so great. I tried to be with a woman because I need/want companionship and I'm open. That didn't work. I'm just not a lesbian or I've not met the right woman.

I've held onto my sister's secret of being a stripper, and she read my journal to my mother. Now, my mother treats me like shit. I actually called my own mother a bitch. And she is sometimes. I just never wanted to say those words out loud. I am in so much pain. How could I say those things? How could she suggest that I move to Indiana to be close to my family and not even be the tiniest bit supportive? She ignored my call when my temperature was 103.2, and my dad took it *he didn't say we should get me to a doctor or suggest even getting me an aspirin* and I left her a message that was rude. I just lashed out in pain.

I'm not cutting. I'm not drugging. I'm not drinking. I was trying to do the right things. I went to my cousin's graduation party to see my family. I am so lonely. I have got to go or I will die here.

My EKG and MRI's from AZ and IN show that I did have a mily stroke and heart attack. I have tumors that are most likely benign all over my lymphatic system. I'm so ill. I am thankful that my face/body didn't "freeze," but my mind is so fuzzy. I am so scared.

I'm afraid I cannot support myself well, but I want to try. I don't feel sorry for myself. People ask me why I didn't marry Simon for his money and just divorce him and have told me I was stupid. I am actually a good person (I'm crying so fucking loudly now that it's pathetic). I don't know if I'm screaming those words that I'm because of my need to believe it or my lack of personal character.

It must be me. I must be so fucking disturbed or mentally ill or something. I love my family so much. I miss my sis. I wish I was a better sister to her because when my cat died 2 years ago, I was with her just days before I had to put him to sleep and she helped me get through it. Now he's gone, and I miss him too.

I miscarried my baby at 4 months, and Dad doesn't say anything about it. My case manager knew how much it meant to me. I've nobody to hug because my dad won't even allow Chris to visit. I'm going to go there and have already purchased tickets, but I think I'm just going to move back or follow one of my dreams of moving to San Diego. I love the idea of the city and hope that I fit in there. I have to fit in somewhere.

I realize I wrote Soul Flowers about my family--I think my sister the most.

My temperature is high. I'm on so many drugs and I'm so sick and nobody is home. It's kinda nice because I'm crying so loudly. I'm humiliated. Truly. I hurt now and search for a tube of Ben Gay to sooth these sick sores. No one can help me scale this wall.....

And my sister isn't talking to me. I've cried myself to sleep wondering how to be a better sister. It hurts. She had surgery that I didn't even know about. I called and left a message on her machine saying happy anniversary to her marriage....to which she didn't even have me in the wedding.

I need. Something. AND I SWEAR TO GOD IT'S NOT ANOTHER FUCKING LITHIUM.