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Lisa

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[29 Jun 2005|08:57pm]
Well, I had a nice little confession session on my way home from Analiese's today. But the thing is...I'm not even done yet.

I like to think of myself as someone who doesnt complain (alot). I like to think that my life has been hella great compared to what COULD have been. Ive never been beaten (technically), Ive never been molested (technically), but it still feels like it could have been BETTER. It still feels like I've had some of the worst times happen to me. I know I shouldnt, but I do...and that is all that matters, right?

So starting out...my parents are totally different from one another. I dont see even WHY they got together in the first place (not saying im not glad, because then I wouldnt be here). My mom used to tell me that she wishes that she had never met my dad. I then fight back with "but then I wouldnt be here". Her excuse was "You would be...but with a better father."
This is the stuff I grew up with. Insults, fighting...even though my parents tried hard to hide it. It wasnt very subtle...especially when my mom fucking TOLD me that she wishes everything could have been better. That everything could have been with a different man. I hate this. I hate it when my parents fight. As a 10 year old girl, I used to pray (yeah, pray) that my mom would come home for Christmas and live with us again. Ever since we moved to Missouri from Texas...my dad said that my mom was only away on business and that she would come home. I kept asking him every Christmas if, for my present from Santa, that I could have my mom back. His response "Its very possible, Lisa. Just keep hopeing."

And I did. Every. Fucking. Holiday.

I cried myself to sleep so many nights wondering if my mom hated us. Wondering why she left us. I didnt understand then. I thought I wasnt good enough. My dad tended to point out my flaws more so then my good qualities. I hated myself for a good while. Every Mothers day, I would call my mom...and only hear her cry. One night, when she visited, I was just falling asleep when she comes in, crawls into bed with me and bawls her eyes out. This was the time when I decided that moving with my Dad to Georgia was the best thing for me as a person. She fucking cried herself to sleep because of me. Next to me. I felt like a god damned betrayer. I always cried because she left us, and now I made her cry because I was leaving her. What kind of a daughter am I, anyways?

Not to mention the fact that MULTIPLE women would "visit" the house for days, weeks, months...and sometimes years.

I wasnt stupid in the sex department. Not at all.

I knew what was going on. I knew it when I heard funky noises one night when I was asleep. I thought someone was dieing. I got out of my bed and sat on the stairs, listening to the then "nanny" Penny moan and cry. No. She wasnt dieing. She was fucking my dad. Wonderful. All the while I was crying...wondering why the hell my dad was still married to my mom when Penny was right there....in bed with him. Oh no, it didnt stop or begin with Penny. There were MANY others...Beth, Reneé, Ney Ney (dont ask), and some I dont even remember the names to. Hell, I was taught the birds and the bees at fucking 7. I knew what was going down. I HATED every minute of it. I would always scrutinize every woman my dad would bring home.
"Hey Lisa, this is Reneé. She's going to be staying with us for a week or so. ::smile::"
"::stare:: Nice to meet you, Reneé. ::walk off:: ::shifty glare::"

Yeah...bullshit.

No wonder I am so hard on the sex subject. I havent told this to many people...mainly for the fact that it sickens, embarrasses, and kills me. One night when I was...well...when Bill Clinton got elected for the 2nd time or so...I was watching the election in my dads room with Dad, Justin, Jeffrey and MAYBE someone else, Im not sure anymore. Well, the election was pretty boring. I didnt understand any of it. I remember this commercial for a movie and one particular scene was fascinating. Understand: At 7...I havent SEEN what sex looks like, but I knew full well what it was. So...Jeffrey and my dad leave the room and I turn to Justin after the commercial and I say: Hey, wanna do what they did in the commercial?

He just shrugged.

I mean...it was just fooling around. Mainly just...well...not cuddling...but...it kills me. The memory is faded, but I remember him kissing my neck and rubbing my back. Thats as far as it went I think.

He was a drugged little kid, and he hardly remembers his childhood. I dont blame him. At all. I just...I hate myself...for being so slow...so sick...

Recently, in talking about my brother to my dad...he mentioned something to the effect of..."Justin used to brag when he was younger that he had sex with you. What kind of stupid thing to say!".

I was shocked. We NEVER had sex...EVER. Like...I would totally remember that...and I can say...no...just no. I mean...that night didnt go THAT far...it didnt go far at ALL. Just...curiousness I guess...

Justin, however, doesnt remember.

I remember Justin tryed to assult a babysitter one time...and the police were called. So I had to go down to the station and they asked me questions. I VIVIDLY remember them asking "So has your brother ever made...SEXUAL attempts on you?"

Me being a stupid 10 year old was like: "Oh...no...not really...I mean we messed around abit...like he would rub my back and kiss my neck and things"

Oh man, it makes my stomach hurt thinking about it.

I really havent told ANYONE...ever. Its too embarrassing to get out in words.

That and another embarrassing thing on the sex scale...:

Note: If you happen to be MALE and NOT interested in FEMALE matters...I wouldnt read this...it might get a bit too...descriptive....(edit...STRONG female matters)






I started (lets call it George for now) when I was about 14 or so. I was so scared to use a tampon or anything because, come on...all the "cool" girls got them at like 10 and KNEW what they were talking about and they would tell stories like: OMIGAWD had to be taken to the hospital because one of her tampons go lodged into her intestines!

I would like to say that I dont believe this NOW...but back then, not knowing anything...that was a pretty creepy thing.

So I never really touched them. Ever. They were like...diseased or something.

But after hearing my friends talk favorably about them (later on, of course), I wanted to try it out, you know? See what its all about.

Well...I couldnt put it in right. At all. I was nervous and shaking and all that good stuff.

SO I asked dear ole' Cindy for some advice.

What does Cindy like to do when you ask for advice? HANDS ON.

Right...she sat me down on her toilet, got one of those suckers out, got some vaseline and went at it. Of course...me and my 14 year old self FLIPPED. I was having a nervous breakdown and she didnt know it. She tried HER best to apply it...but I was too tense.

Her remarks?

"Damn it, Lisa....if you cant get even a fucking tampon in, how do you expect a PENIS to get in there?"

Yeah...thanks a lot. My dreams of feminimity...down the drain. In a Massive scale.








So...I guess I cant blame her a whole lot...I mean...it was MY fault for believing those idiot girls and being scared, tense and just plain out retarded.


SO you wonder why Im so hell bent on "sex is bad, Mmkay?"

You lucky readers out there have now just been told EVERYTHING that I havent told ANYONE. Ever. I just hope you dont find me...you know...demented...sick...anything along those lines.
But who can decide what they dream...?

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