The old, scratchy, worn video called a Memory. April 03, 2002 - 2:08 p.m.

There have been a few things bad that have happened in my childhood. I'm not implying that I had a hugely traumatic life. I'm just saying I had to deal with a few things that have been very trying on me as a person. Not even an overabundant amount. Just enough to alter the way I see things.

I never have a problem talking about them. Not that they really come up a whole lot anyhow. For example, just earlier today in Quotes, I mentioned my brother's attempt at suicide. (I'm sure I'll write an entry about it one day, but having already talked about it today, it will not be now.) This was brought on because of the personality test we took. One of the questions asks if you've ever thought about suicide. Granted, I wasn't the one that attempted suicide... it still affected me.

I do have one thing that I never talk about. I've mentioned it one time to one person. Just once. That's all. Briefly. Not in detail. Just enough for the person to understand an ounce of what was going on in my head. I can never seem to say it, even if I wanted to. My problem is, that's the one thing that still fucks me up. I lock up. Entirely. No words. Restricted movement. Just my tears and seemingly fragmented memories.

And I have no idea what to do about it.

.: Googles .: Registered! .: For Sale .: My Store

Design :. Picture :. Trading Card :. Host :.