When I was a kid I had a babysitter who would put me in the basement. She would feed her kids in front of me but refused to feed me. She said she wasn't being paid to feed me. I don't know why she put me in the basement. Maybe I was bad. She didn't like it when I would cry and pound on the door so she put me in the cellar. There was no light and I was too scared to move off that first step into the darkness. There were things in that cellar. I could hear them scurrying around. I would cry and cry. But I knew no one could hear me. She would always let me out before my dad came to pick me up. She told me if I told anyone they would never believe me. Sometimes she'd tell me that my parents knew about it. They just didn't care. Here I am twenty-two years old and I feel like I'm back in the cellar. And I don't know if I'm going to get out this time.
9.12.16. There were a lot of fucked up things that happened to me when I was a kid and I can't help but think they contribute to the piece of shit person I am today. People will tell you time and time again that you should let go of the past and move forward. Bullshit. I am not a forgiving person, especially when those who have hurt me have impacted my entire life. I am full of a hate that consumes me and if it destroys me than so be it. I was terrified of the dark for years. Sometimes I still get a twinge of fear. I've had problems with food ever since. I used to hoard food as a kid. I worried about going hungry all the time. I never realized until recently that all these years I was binge eating. I would binge and then feel sick. Disgusted. Repulsed. So then I'd eat less and less as a way to compensate. Eventually stop eating at all. Binge eat. Repeat. It's something I still struggle with. When I get stressed out it can go either way: stop eating/eat excessively. It's so hard to control. It's so hard to control. It's so hard to control. I do not owe forgiveness to anybody.