Sunday, April 30, 2006

I confess...

I keep a weapon hidden on me at all times.
I saw a good friend die.
Some days I can’t stop eating.
I have a few secrets that I will never tell.
I suck at being a writer.
I stole things from a hotel room where I was staying.
I have a plan for my death.
I think about death everyday.
I have been arrested over 30 times.
I have sold drugs.
I witnessed a murder.
The first time I got drunk, it was with a police officer.
Some days I think about killing everyone I meet.
I hate myself.
I have lied to a police officer.
I have warrants for my arrest.
Today the voices in my head are fighting.
When I was younger my father took naked pictures of me.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Why I like talking to the police.

Since I’ve been posting on my blog I’ve received several e-mails, some are of course negative and telling me how crazy I am, while others are very supportive and want to help me in any way they can. In the end though, the message is always the same, I need to get some type of professional help is the main concern from the officers I meet, while others tell me they understand my pain because they too have experienced the same feelings. It amazes me sometimes when I come across those who truly care whether or not I live or die. And sometimes I think the officers are just trying to prevent me from committing more crimes, which I guess is good. (I’m getting there; I’m just not there yet.)

The strange thing I have found about speaking to officers online, is that it gives me enough of an adrenaline boost to make me feel okay for a short period of time. It’s an addiction I can’t stop. Is that so wrong? When I talk to them, they stay in my head, and when I go out their voices are still there and I don’t commit crimes. I know that sounds weird but it works for me. I don’t want to be a law breaker, a criminal, a drug addict, a loser, or a drain on society. Damn it! I just want to feel normal for one fucking day! So I confess some of my darkest secrets online to complete strangers just so I can feel okay and be able to make it to the next day.

Friday, April 28, 2006

Its a cold world when you have to hide all by yourself.

This is my place to cry and to be able to let go of some of the hate that I keep so tightly stored during the day. Right now everything and everybody seem to be driving me nuts. I can go anywhere by myself any more, because HE thinks Ill get in trouble, so he checks the mileage on the car each night now just to make sure I don’t go anywhere. The only time I leave the house now is when he drives me to the store once a week, and then it’s back to the dark cave in the bedroom. Hell even when I was driving I had to hurriedly make it back sometimes or HE would be so pissed off and angry that I was late and then he always demanded to know where I was.
In the beginning he was so nice, and things I thought were going to be wonderful. He moved in with me the night after the first time we had sex. He told me he loved me and wanted to spend the rest of his life with just me. He said I was the perfect woman for him, and it made me feel special. Still, I wasn’t sure I was ready for another relationship, but there he was from the time I woke up until the time I went to bed. After only a few weeks of living together, I realized I just couldn’t be the perfect woman that he thought I should be. He expected me to just automatically know all his needs and wants, and then I was to make sure they were fulfilled.

I tried talking to a few of my friends about how I didn’t know what to do, and they all suggested that I leave him right then and there, but I thought somehow I could change him. One day we got into a really big fight and I screamed at him I should just do as my friends said leave him. It was the worse thing I could have said, and it was also the last time I spoke to any of my friends. We moved to another town where I knew no one, and he liked it that way, and did not want me to make any new friends. So that’s the way it’s been for the past 15 years. He has now convinced me that I was the one who didn’t want anyone around. It’s just that I’ve grown use to the isolation.

After all these years I still expect things to get better, but they never have, they’ve only continued to get worse. Over the years when I threatened to leave he would sometimes hold me down and tell me I wasn’t going anywhere. We were together until we died together. He tells me I’m the reason he becomes so angry, I make him that way, so I try as hard as I can to make things easy on him. Things are okay for a long time sometimes and then suddenly without warning he changes into another person and no matter how hard I try I can not do anything right.

At times I feel like I’m at the end of my rope, I don’t know what to do. Saturday night is our usual night to have sex, no matter what else is going on. I should have known better when I told him I didn’t want to have sex because I just didn’t feel good. It turned him into the other person. He began screaming and cussing at me, then he threw things across the room and kicked the trashcan everywhere. You ain’t any fucking good, bitch. Why didn’t you say something earlier if you didn’t want to have sex? You know we have sex every Saturday night. So what’s your fucking problem? He continued to call me every foul name that he could think of, until I finally gave in. I wanted him to just calm down, so I told him I would take a bath and that would make me feel better and we could have sex. After smoking a very large blunt that he made me roll, he told me to turn over. I still didn’t really want to have sex, so I just laid there barely moving until he was done.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Report child abuse sites

ASACP Association of Sites Advocating Child Protection

If you come across a site that has child porn, pictures, etc.
Report the website.

Monday, April 24, 2006

My life growing up helped to form who I am.

During the time when Dustin was in the hospital, Wally had returned from Texas. He wasn't getting along with his real father and decided he wanted to come back. He and I began going with my father as he would rob various places at night. He had told us the most important thing was to never, never brag to anyone. “If you keep it to yourself no one will know but you", was a saying my father would repeat to Wally and me as we went with him to be his lookout. We were to look in opposite directions and watch for anyone coming and honk the horn if we saw any lights. He would steal batteries, tires, car parts, boats, boat motors, 3 wheelers, motorcycles, gas, cattle to butcher and anything else of value that we can across. When the eclectic and telephone companies came to put in new line, we went out several times stealing items they left laying around. He stole truckload after truckload of electric copper tubing. He would cut it up in long pieces and put them in the back of the truck until it was full. He would then take all the copper tubing and stack it in a big pile out behind the garage. Then he would dump gasoline over all of it and set it ablaze, burning off the outer rubber. Everyone would stand around and watch as my father would throw more gas on top, causing it to flame up really high into the air. After it cooled, we would all grab a piece and pull out the copper pieces to sell. We then loaded the copper strips back into the truck along with whatever else we had stolen, to sell at a place that recycled metals in Kansas. Once my father found out the type of things they were willing to buy, he began stealing more and more things. It became a regular week-end 'outing' to run to Kansas and sell the things we had stolen throughout the week.

One week-end as we were burning off some copper, someone from the sheriffs department showed up. He said he was just driving by and saw the smoke and just wanted to make sure there wasn't a big fire. My father told him we were just burning some trash out back, and he had it completly under control. The officer looked over at me and smiled. He was the same one who had come to our place after Dustin was shot. My father had talked trash about him after he had tried to talk to Richard about shooting Dustin. My father said the deputy had accused Richard of shooting Dustin on purpose and wanted to take him in for questioning, but my father didn't allow him. Now he wanted to look and see what my father was burning and again my father refused. "You get a warrant and I'll let you look, but until then I'm telling you, you better get your ass off my property". The Deputy looked at me, smiled again and then got back in his truck and left. Afterwards my father began saying how much of an asshole he was. "A man can't even make a living without some fucking pig messing it up. God damn places already have enough money", he shouted angrily then quickly went back to check on the fire. "If anyone ask you kids anything, tell them we were just burning trash. They don't need to be in our business, so keep your damn mouths shut", he said then he pointed at me, "and Tayla don't you ever let me see you looking at a cop, ever again. Keep your eyes to yourself until you can show them no fear. They can see in your eyes if you're doing anything wrong."

My father became paranoid after the deputy had came that he stopped stealing the telephone cable line and began stealing cattle instead. Just a few heads at a time. Most were young unmarked cattle from around in different areas. Some he sold for cash to friends, others he butchered and put in the freezer. We never got caught at robbing anything, so it continued for years, even after Dustin had gotten out of the hospital.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

My first Arrest: I am the bad guy.

I worked the next few days and then I got two off. On my last night of work, when I was on my way home from work I met John as he was stopping by Jan's place. She wasn't home, so I invited him over to my place for a beer or two. We talked for awhile, then he pulled out a bag of pills and handed me two.

"What are they?” I asked.
"Something to help you relax, they're Darvacet".
"What do they do?"

"Don't worry. They'll just help you relax. I like you", he said handing them to me. "I don't want to hurt you. Take them both. You can trust me".

I wasn't sure what to do. I had heard words like that before, but I still wanted him to like me, so I took the pills and washed them down with a drink of beer. We sat talking for awhile, but soon the pills made me very sleepy. My voice was slurred and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

"I'm going to bed. I can't stay awake any longer", I said with a big yawn and a distance far away look.

"Sounds good, can I join you?” he asked with a big smile.

I couldn't bring myself to say yes, "I'm not feeling too good, maybe another time."
"Well okay then, I'll stop by tomorrow if you're not to busy".
"Sure. I'll be here".

John hung around for the next couple of days. I was beginning to really enjoy his company. On my next day off we bought a case of beer and went driving around. I drove until I had become so drunk, that I had to let John take over. He drove around until 1:00am doing nothing but talking and listening to the radio. By the time we got back to the house I could barely stand, but John helped me into the house and afterwards, I quickly feel asleep. I was awaken around 2:34am by John talking to someone in the living room. I could hear another guy's voice, but I didn't know who it was.

"Man, do you even like her?"

"Not really, but it's a free place to stay for awhile, plus she's paying for all the beer", I heard John saying, and then he laughed.

My heart dropped. I wanted him to like me. I became so angry. I wanted to cry, scream, do something, but I was too hurt and even scared. I laid there quietly until I heard them leave. I got up, got dressed, then I started crying, "That bastard lied; he didn't even like me!" I hit the wall hard in anger and it felt good, so I hit it again and again. My heart welled up in my chest. It hurt and I wanted to die. I grabbed my keys and ran out the door. I got in my car and turned the key. Nothing. It wouldn't start. Angry, I shouted, "Damn it. Damn it!"

I took a deep breath. I thought I didn't need to drive anyway because I was still drunk. I got out, slammed the door, and then walked back in the house. I picked up my jacket and walked into the bathroom. I opened my Uncle's medicine cabinet and took out the bottle of valiums. I opened the bottle and took three then I put the bottle in my bra; in case I wanted one for later I told myself. As I took off walking, tears again rolled down my cheeks. I thought back over the past few months. Things were suppose to be going good after I left home. Nothing ever seems to go right. Nobody cares. Nobody understands. Why do they treat me like I'm a piece of shit? Is because I'm fat? Why? I wiped off my face and walked into all night convenient store. I purchased a can of beer without showing any I.D., so I could take another pill. I walked towards downtown drinking the rest of the beer. Where was I going? I didn't know. I didn't care anymore. I finished the beer and threw it down on the ground. The beer and pills had taken effect and I stumbled, almost falling down.

The next thing I knew, someone was grabbing my arm and talking to me.

"Let me go!” I shouted and pulled away. My mind was so fuzzy that I didn't realize what was going on. I turned and saw two police officers. I panicked and began resisting. Afraid of what they might do, fear over took my mind and I felt the need to run away as quickly as possible. I didn’t want any man especially a cop, touching me. I tried to pull away, but they shoved me up against a rough concrete building and put my hands high up behind my back.

"Let me go!” I shouted at the top of my voice. I wasn't going to take it anymore. I wasn't giving in and doing what they wanted. I wanted to fight back for the first time in my life. Both officers fought with me until they were able to cuff me, all the while I continued screaming at them, telling them they could go to hell. They put me in the back of the squad car and drove me to the jail. They sat me at a desk and remove the cuffs then began asking me all kinds of questions. Name, age, address, etc. "Do you have any unusual scars or bruises?"

"No", was all I could say and then I began crying. I took my glasses off and sat them down on the desk and began wiping my eyes.

The assistant chief sat down across from me, "Look up at me", he asked.

When I finally looked up he asked, "What happened tonight?"

I wanted to blurt it all out; to tell him everything, but I couldn't. All I could see was the fact that he and the others were standing around me in uniforms. I just shook my head and looked back down. Besides I thought what could he do? He's a cop, a man. I just cried more. They took all my jewelry and keys then asked if I had anything on me. There was no female officer to search me, so I was taken straight back to a cell. They through a thin mattress down on a cot then slammed the door cell behind me. The loud clanging of the cell door shutting made me feel forever alone. I felt I was being punished for what "they" did.

"I'm not drunk!” I screamed out, hoping they might let me out.

"You can get out in the morning", a deputy yelled back. "Now, lay down and go to sleep."

"Fuck you assholes", I shouted back.

As I laid down on the hard cot, I thought back to things that had happened in my life. I wanted to crawl in a hole somewhere and pull the dirt in over me. I wanted to understand why I was being punished in life. Why did I have to be the bad guy?

Sunday, April 16, 2006


Why is that people who were abused as children often grow up to be in abusive relationships? I ask myself this question every time after I’ve been run through a washing machine, and told that I’m nothing but a piece of trash that can’t find a waste basket to be thrown into. I am a ‘nobody’ and I always will be, and God only knows I can’t do anything right, I’m a total fuck up. At least that’s what I’ve been told again and again.
I hear different voices in my head telling me what I should and should not do; it’s just so hard to know which one to listen too.

One voice calmly and sadly states that he’ll change and things will be better. It’ll never happen again. Plus in a few days everything will be forgotten and things will be wonderful……for a little while.

Yet another voice reminds me of the children and how breaking up may effect them. He really loves them and would never hurt them, it’s just when he gets mad he takes it out on me. They need a father figure in their lives to make sure they don’t go down the wrong roads. He’s the one who pays for the things they need. I don’t think I can raise them alone.

Then in the very far reaches of my brain I hear this little voice squeaking out phrases like… He’ll do it again, and next time it’s going to be worse. Get the hell out while you can. Remember when he hit you so hard in the back of your head you couldn’t even think straight for over a week? You were so dizzy after he hit you 7 or 8 times with his fist that you almost blacked out, and you had a severe headache for over a week? And you want to go back to him. Get the hell out now!!!
I sometimes want to leave, especially after he hits me. He knows where to hit so that it doesn’t leave any marks, because if the police come he doesn’t want them see where he could no longer control his aggressions. That happened a few times, and that’s what made him smarter. If the police can’t see any signs of abusive then it’s his word against mine. The police have now come so many times, that I don’t think they take it serious. Why do I say that? Because the other day when he and I got into a really big fight and he threaten once more to take my life I ran to call 911. He jerked the phone out of my hand and slammed it down, as I took off running into another room. I stood with my back into a corner expecting him to break down the door at any second and begin to beat me until the blood flowed. My heart was beating so hard in my chest as I waited for the police to come and stop him from possibly taking my life.

I heard the phone ringing, and then came his heavy footsteps walking quickly back down the hall towards the phone, cussing loudly as he did. I stepped over towards the bedroom door and I could hear him speaking to someone from the police.

“No there’s no problem here. Everything is fine.” He said in a voice that was calmer than I had ever heard before. “Sorry but 911 was on speed dial and I accidentally hit it. Sorry, it won’t happen again.” He hung up and then I heard him coming down the hallway again.

No Rescue.

“Why in fuck do you always have to call the fucking cops? You know you can’t stand the son-of-bitches and their not going to come to your rescue. You stupid bitch!”
With one big giant push he broke the door jam and stormed into the room and directly at me with such force that when he hit me the first time I passed out.

Monday, April 10, 2006

My Dream

This is a dream that I've had over and over again every since I was around the age of 12. Sometimes I go months, and sometimes years without having this dream, but when I begin to get stressed the dream comes strong, hard and fast.

I close my eyes to sleep and I move into a new world. The shadows of nightfall appear and a different reality begins to surface. I float away into the peace of the night, as imagines manifest into patterns, impossible to conceive in the awake mind.

I stand before a huge mirror with a fanciful swirling patterns and bright red rubies in each corner. I'm looking deep into the eyes of someone I know. It look's like me, but still, it isn't quite me. A hand suddenly appears from beyond and I am pulled forth into thick clinging fog. I'm not sure where I am and I feel confused. The air is thick and the smell burns my nose. As I begin to walk into the unknown, I trip over a trashcan lying on its side. I could see maggots, flies and sickly looking mice, scurrying out of the way, as I tumble and hit the ground with a heavy thud. I stood up, wiping the dirt from my now torn clothing. I could see trashcans scattered all over the abandoned streets. They were all full with rotted trash, most spilling out over the ground; others were lying on their sides, with rodents and cat's together eating everything and anything they touched. I wanted to run, but to where? There was no place to go; my heart sank. I felt a heavy cold gust of air push up around me and I rose into the air, then back down to the ground.

Enjoying the feeling, I lifted my arms high into the air, then took a giant leap and bounced high above the street below. I remained in the air taking more leaps and bounds across the sky. My heart raced, as the feeling of maybe falling and smashing into the earth took over my mind. I took several deep breaths and begin to calm myself as I slowly began to descend. I could see a ruined city below me. I floated at tree level, looking at the mass destruction that stretched out for miles. I looked into the sky and spotted the sun hidden by dark still-less clouds.

I closed my eyes in shame and took a step down onto the ground. I began walking up to my old school. I could tell it hadn't change. The grass was mowed, the yard was clean, and the building was in good shape. The only thing missing was the front door. I walked down the long hallway. As I passed, windows shattered, pieces of the walls crumbled and smashed to the floor. I walked faster becoming frightened. I stopped in front of my 5th grade classroom. I looked inside then walked over and sat down at a desk I sat in when I was in school. The chair was small and made me feel very uncomfortable. I began to shake and felt the need to escape. I tried to get up, but I was hit on the back of my hand. My hand stung even more as a board came smashing down hard on my hand again. I looked up and saw a person that looked like me with a board in their hand, raised high in the air. I stood, knocking over the desk as I confronted the image that looked like me. I looked into the crying eyes, staring deep trying to see something. My eyes broke free from the stare just as the board came down again from behind me. This time I was hit across the back of my head and shoulders. I stumbled and fell to the floor. I could hear the laughter of the 'others' as they appeared to tower over and all around me. I could hear the strange image laughing louder than all the others. I wanted to scream out for everyone to please just leave me alone.

With tears in my eyes, I stood and leaped into the air with one giant leap and landed far away on the ground. I began running over a hill, grabbing at the weeds and grass, pulling myself along faster and faster. I ran to the top of the hill, stopped turned and looked back down to where I had came from. Gunshots rang out from a distance. I could see hundreds of uniformed officers chasing me. They called out for me to stop, but instead I took off running again, across wide-open fields. In one corner of the field, I could see a square shaped castle and quickly made my way to the door. It was old; weeds, grass and brush overtook the entire courtyard. I quickly ran inside and slammed the huge door shut behind me. Inside the ceiling was so low that I could stretch my arms above my head and palm the ceiling. The walls, the ceiling and the floor were all painted a deep solid black. Dolls sat in corners, on black shelves. Unknown forces were manipulating puppets hanging from strings. I walked further into the darkness, beyond the dolls and puppets and saw ferocious looking animals entangled in chains and ropes. Their cries for freedom rang through my ears. I began ripping and pulling at the ropes and chains, freeing the beasts. They ran past me into the darkness from where I had just come from. The more I freed the more animals I saw. I couldn't get to them all and became frantic as their cries rang out louder and louder. Sweat rolled down my face, quickly soaking the front of my shirt, as I continued to work faster and faster. I wanted to quit and give up, so I closed my eyes, looking for some relief. When I reopened my eyes, the animals were gone, but now it was me that was bound with the ropes and chains. I couldn't move, I struggled to be free but couldn't gain my freedom. I felt someone pushing me hard from behind through several opening doors, each one leading into more darkness. The ropes and chains were now handcuffs tightly placed around my wrist. They were getting tighter and tighter as I walked, slowly cutting into my flesh. Dark red blood trickled down my arms. I could take no more and began to fight back against the images that held me. I slung my arms out violently, snapping the cuffs and hitting the others that held me tight. I struggled against them as if I were engaged in a battle for my life. I cried out for someone to please help me. I felt a light from above surrounded me, then I looked down and my body was fully covered in armor. A shield was over my eyes. The armor clacked when I took a step forward. Afraid to look at me, the others became frightened and began to flee.

From the darkness, four huge balloons floated before my face. I grabbed a hold of the string and I am lifted out of the armor, high into the air. I felt a sense of relief and let go of the balloon string. I began to twist and spiral down to the ground. I hit with a hard thump and lay there not moving, barely breathing. My mouth and nose was bleeding and my bones felt broken. I couldn't move and closed my eyes. I 'awoke' in the back of an old bumpy truck, being driven by people that I thought I knew, but still I wasn’t sure. They were taking me to the hospital telling me everything was going to be okay. Inside nurses and doctors rushed hurriedly around me, tending to my every need, but with deep sadness in their eyes, I could see it wasn’t meant to be. A man dressed fully in black, holding an hourglass, stood before me. The sand in the hourglass had stopped falling. I wanted to reach out and turn it back over, but in my heart, I knew my time was at an end. A casket lay in the ground. I looked up to see many officers standing around and people I didn’t know. I felt everyone’s deep sadness, as red dirt was being thrown in on top of a huge black coffin.

Tears welled up and I took off running, and then leaped high into the air. At first I didn't think I would stay afloat, but the more leaps I took, the higher I went into the air. I looked down and I could still see the shadowy figures of the people I knew and many I did not. Tears flowed and I leaped higher and higher into the air as I watched myself getting smaller and smaller. I flew beyond space until I was no longer there, and I felt at peace.