Dear Diary:
I passed a test today but my mom said I should've done better. She says those grades aren't good enough. I'm sure I studied hard but it's all fine. I'll do better next time. I haven't eaten much in the past few days because my body is done. My father took away my worth, my privacy, my energy, my time, my intimacy, my confidence, my own voice. The damage is done, no one can undo it. and what hurts me the most is that no one believes me. I have scars to prove— I have everything to prove but still, no one believes it.
I'm tired—mentally, physically and emotionally. I need help but I can't get it so I have to find other ways to cope. I'm growing up now and the abuse just gets worse. My body numbs whenever they come around and I shut it out with the thought that: "it will be over soon." And not the act overall, but the act for the day.
Sometimes I'm glad for the days when no one's home. I can be by myself. I can be alone and I can be good— even for a time. School is a good escape too, but the people there are mean to me. I only get along with my teachers. All the friends are fake and all the boys just don't see me as a human. I'm no stranger to the sex topic but I'm traumatized. If I tell someone, they'll laugh it off but no one will truly understand the point of view of a rape and abuse victim until they've experienced themselves and personally, I wouldn't wish that one anyone— not even my worst enemy. That's it for today diary... I'll see you next time. Whenever I have the time.
Love, Dixie.