hereprophetslie: (Like father like son)
The day before everything went to shit, you said this to me when I asked about what to do for Peter because he saved my life. You said:

I also, unfortunately, have no right words to give you here, not even in the slightest. For every other situation in life I had a vague guide. For puberty, for bullies, for love, for all those things I felt I could play the father and protect you as well as it was possible. I could guide and love you and be safe in the knowledge that, in the end, all would be well. I don't have that knowledge any more and it scares the shit out of me.

That's how I feel now. I have no words. No understanding of how to deal with this. I have no coping skills for my father betraying me and it scares me.

I don't know what to do.
hereprophetslie: (?)
Whatever you do, no matter how amusing you think you're being, don't jokingly ask Aunt Aly if she had a good time the previous night because she has a wicked grin on her face.

So so so many things I never ever ever ever needed to know about or, in fact, to imagine in my head with full visuals and surround sound.

And then...? Because you're feeling awkward and slightly flustered? When Uncle Peter walks into the kitchen? Don't congratulate him. Because he will laugh and then kiss my aunt in such a way that it should be rated illegal. Even if I now feel like I am five years old and shouting "EW" at my parents when they kissed. I am fairly sure they never looked like they were re-enacting some sort of kitchen porn when saying good morning.

....god, I hope.

And I most certainly don't want to ask Peter for pointers now. That wouldn't be the most awkward thing in the world ever. Damn you, awkward world...

hereprophetslie: (SRSly?)
I shouldn't have hit you and I'm sorry

No no no. Not today.
hereprophetslie: (Grrish)
I'm 22 old today, and I am spending my birthday in my Uncle's basement. To be fair to him, he bought me a cake and he keeps trying to bring me food, but I just can't.

I don't even know what to do with myself right now. All I seem to be capable of is remembering all these things Ben did for me and then...feeling bitter. And I hate that kind of attitude from anyone, so I'm wrapped up in self-loathing and being pissed off at Ben and...augh. I feel guilty for being upset.

When I was young I remember being jealous because when Serenity lost a tooth, the 'tooth fairy' brought her these little wooden toys I didn't know her mother made. Elaine was single at the time and she didn't have much money. Of course, in my youth I didn't know parents were the tooth fairy, and so I complained to my dad that the fairy brought Serenity presents and all I got was a lousy quid. So ridiculous. The next time I lost my tooth, there was a little present under my pillow. A little wooden car. My dad had bought it from Serenity's mum and put it under my pillow and I didn't find that out for years.

And know...a decade later they fucked and ripped my family apart. Arghfuckit.

I remember after my attack, I almost died so many times and Ben was so worried. He never left my side. And when I was better, I told him if I had died then, at least I knew I was so lucky because I had always been so loved. I went on and on about how my father was the best father in the world because he had never made me feel like I was worthless. God...does it sound ridiculously pathetic to say I almost wish I had just so I could have died a disillusioned and happy kid, instead of...whatever this is I am now? I don't want to be dead, don't get me wrong, but right now it feels like I am dead inside anyway. And I know that won't last forever, but fuck if I can't feel anything else now.

He had been lying to me for five years straight. He willingly let me destroy my relationship with my mother, and he let me think my mother didn't love me enough to stay. He...he willingly let me feel unloved and unlovable in the case of my mother. If he had told me the truth in the beginning, I would have been upset, but I would have gotten over it. But I can't...I can't get over this. He lied to me. He lied.

And my going on and on...that was lies too. He didn't love me more than anything. He loved himself more. He loved his squeaky-clean image more. He let me wallow in self-hate for five years and he never said a word. And that hurts.

So happy birthday to me.
hereprophetslie: (SRSly?)
It's my birthday tomorrow.

I don't feel very much like celebrating.
hereprophetslie: (SRSly?)
I've moved out of home. I don't want to be anywhere near my father. I'm staying with Uncle Peter.
hereprophetslie: (Smile)
You are absolutely beautiful and I love you.
hereprophetslie: (In shadow)
Daaaddddd, what kind of present do you get for someone who saved you from horrible torture?

A card just seems so...trite. "Here, you went to great lengths and risked yourself to keep me safe, have a Hallmark greeting." Argh.
hereprophetslie: (Grrish)
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow I take it back, give me back the wheelchair! (Don't really. I'm just whining because ow.)

So, I have a walking cast on one leg, and the other is freee and really skinny and kind of gross because it was in a cast for so long. You all needed to know. I have crutches to keep weight off the still broken leg and I can wobble around on them. Kind of. But it hurts to use them because my fingers were broken and they're still sore. I'm getting there though. I have a drill sergeant physical therapist who I am terrified of, which will mean I will do absolutely everything she (yes,) tells me to do. If I don't, she might break me again!

Quinn came to accompany me for the first part of the day, which was nice. And he said that the Liberos shelter is organising another charity fundraiser. I won't be running across campus wearing a sock and a cape this time because....ow, but I'm going to help out. We're doing a food drive and Flynn is organising bands to play to raise some more money. I get to do publicity. Which is a great job for someone who can't really move a lot. And it's all to help out homeless families. I already started making calls and it feels great.
hereprophetslie: (The Radio)
Two days ago I made a coin 'appear' out of my cousin Caleb's ear. He then cheerfully asked me if I could pretend to materialise a coin out of his arse. Kids are strange, but it made me laugh more than it probably should have... And then I did it and he laughed for two hours straight. Hey, whatever works, right?!

It's been ten weeks since I was injured and so on Monday I'm going in to meet with a physical therapist. Then I'll be learning to walk with crutches because my right leg should be healed up and they said they can put a walking cast on my other leg for another 3 or so weeks. I've been warned it's going to hurt. Yippee. I'm just thrilled I'll be able to get out of this stupid wheelchair. And, hopefully, back to contributing to the world somehow. I want to go back to work.

I'm plugging along. I'm getting there. It's all going to be okay.
hereprophetslie: (Sunlight)
I've been banned from doing the fireball tricks at home lest I burn the place down with myself trapped inside. Dad really does have a good point there. I'm getting good at the coin and card tricks, though!

And look, capital letters! I can move better too. It makes me quite happy.
hereprophetslie: (Hair)
last night i fell out of my wheelchair trying to get into bed (andy's room is smaller than mine and hard to manoeuvre!) and dad had to rescue me by picking me up off of the floor. i feel ridiculous... i think i gave him a heart attack too. all he would have heard was a huge bang and then my scream of anguish. he ran in looking crazed, like he was going to have to fight something off. i think he might have been brandishing a book... either than or he just hadn't put it down. luckily it was just me being amazingly uncoordinated. today everything hurts even worse thanks to bruising. i'm just going to lie here in bed and moan about it, yay!

quinn has been visiting me, and it's wonderful. we have 'getting shot' bonding time. mostly though, he's been helping me with some research ideas for next year, since i have to go back. and today, when i told him about the falling incident, he made me an ice cream split. that was pretty impressive! so if you ignore the falling incident and the fact that i miss daria, things are going well! uncle peter and lydia came over for dinner the other day and it was really nice.

now i just want to go out again. i feel like i'm turning into a cat lady since sultana has decided my lap is the best lap, since it is ever-present.

do you think it's safe to go out?
hereprophetslie: (In shadow)
dad, i asked peter to come round and bring me things because i'm a demanding, crippled baby. he's going to bring me some things after five and then he's going to make sure everything's and stuff. i asked him to because i'm a worrywart, i'm sorry...

is it okay if he stays for dinner? he could bring his daughter lydia too so andy could have her friend over. if you don't want him to stay, that's cool. it just seems like it would be a nice gesture.

i miss daria.
hereprophetslie: (Smile)
i get to go home tomorrow! i can't wait! I haven't been home in over a month and i miss my father and my sister and my house and my books and my music and my...everything. and my father's cooking. i'll have to keep missing my old room, but that's okay. it's upstairs and i can't get up there yet.

what i can do is beat serenity and quinn in a wheelchair race bwhahhaa!
hereprophetslie: (Smile)
i am in a wheelchair! yeah! and it really, really, really hurts to move myself around (i cried a little, don't judge me) but that doesn't matter because i am sitting up. and if i want to go down to the lobby? it will hurt, but i can! if i want to go to the cafe? i can! so now i'm going to go cruise for chicks! which means visiting my girls in their room! and i might cry a little after that too, but i'm doing it anyway!
hereprophetslie: (Grrish)
my mother and step-father are moving to london!? noooooo. ian is going to want to be best friends and he's going to be there all the time and i really don't want that at all. i really, really don't. he is not my friend and i do not want him in my life dammit.

at least peter's back and he's okay. and my ribs are healing so i should be able to sit in a wheelchair sometime this weekend sand then learn how to get in and out of it! which means I can go home soon! to my dad who is awesome and not ian who is lame.
hereprophetslie: (Scared)
oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god no. no no no no no.
hereprophetslie: (SRSly?)
peter is still gone. what if pat did take him. does that mean he'll get in here?! even if he doesn't, what do we do?
hereprophetslie: (In shadow)
i posted this to my dad. doesn't feel right to keep it from you. it came about cause i sent him a message saying i thought of him as a hero and he wanted to know where it came from and then i said something lame like why does it matter it's how i feel. and then i said this.

okay that was a total cop out on my part. and you didn't answer my question.

i was reading another of peter's journals because i am bored out of my mind and this is one of the early ones he wrote before he knew what demons and angels were. i thought it would be relevant to my social work practice, minus visions... he had visions and he followed them to help the people he was dreaming about without ever knowing what he was going to face, and i might have mentioned to him that i thought that was pretty heroic and then he sat down and went on an on about how the real heroes aren't necessarily the people who traipse off and go on rescue missions or whatever, but the people who will sit by your bedside for days even when you're asleep and wouldn't know. he said other things too, and because i'm not an idiot, i read between the lines (as i am sure he intended me to) and i sorta realised i'd been kind of big on the peter hero-worship lately. and i don't're just getting to know him and here's me all 'he's the best guy ever lalala' and that's probably a little..bleh.

i almost died. a lot. and that's not an excuse, it's an explanation. i am afraid. i am so afraid that thinking about it right now makes he feel like i could vomit. pat ravensdale is out there and he found daria again and again and he could find her and hurt her or worse and he could find me too and that's terrifying. and so i tried so hard to get peter onside because he seemed like...the solution to everything. peter is this guy who bought a hospital just to protect people. so i thought if i could make him care about me, somehow then i'd be okay. if...that makes sense? i didn't know he was my uncle and i figured he has so much to worry about and he takes care of so many people what am i to him other than one of the many even though now i can see he's not actually like that at all, but i didn't know that. i just though...get him to like me and i'll be safe. he'll care enough to intervene if something happens. and then you said he was my uncle and i was overjoyed because then he had to keep me safe, which is so unbelievably selfish...

but fuck, dad...i don't want to die. i'm not even 25 yet. i want to graduate (late, apparently) and get a job and get married and have/raise kids, though that latter one might happen before the former... i want to get to the stage where andy and i can be friends instead of siblings who tolerate each other (though believe me if anyone hurt her i would at least attempt to rip them in two provided i could walk) and i want to patch things up with mum. i want to travel and make stupid mistakes and help people (those two didn't go together) and get a dog and a house to put all my random shit in. alastair died and he left behind a beautiful girlfriend and so many friends and it sucked. he was so smart. as you'd know, since you had him in class and he was always whining things like 'oh man i got a 95 instead of a 100' and he never had to work as hard as i do to do that. he left behind everything and i do not want to do that. and i suddenly realised it can happen. it almost did. over and over. it terrifies me. i am bloody scared shitless and i didn't know how to tell you so i hid behind your brother because it was easy.

and i'm so sorry, dad. i know i can tell you anything. i just didn't want to admit it because then it made it real.

and now peter is missing and it's all just total yuck. and i hope you don't think less of me.
hereprophetslie: (In shadow)
dad, you know you're my hero and always will be, right?

no one else would read harry potter to me and not make fun.
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