A day will come when I will finally know the way out of here
2003-01-14 || 6:31 p.m.

I've tried really hard today.

I've been good to the kids. Not just to my class but to other classes too. Any child knows they can come to me for a hug and they often do. I've marked all their work up to date. Got everything ready for tomorrow. Prepared a load of stuff for art tomorrow afternoon because each class have to do a display all in shades of one colour and I picked purple (!) (well I asked for black but I was told 'no') and so I thought it would be good to do a collage inspired by Van Gogh's Irises. So that's what we are doing.

But it just doesn't matter how good I am, things just get worse and worse for me. I don't think I even have the words to write about it. I can't explain how bad I feel. I cannot bear the thought of 30 or more years of this, most of that on my own once Rebecca gets the hell out of here just as soon as she can.

All I can do is relate things because how can you describe a vacuum? I want to hurt myself really badly. I want to inflict the physical pain to match the mental pain that I feel. All those stupid little thoughtless remarks that people make. Why does any of it hurt me? I hate myself for being hurt by any of it. I know that all I deserve is to be hurt and yet I constantly think I deserve something else.

Ha! perhaps that is PART of the hurt. Yes. How much more wonderfully I am being hurt by thinking that I don't deserve to be hurt. Good one.

I don't want to think about any of this now.

I have no words to describe it.