Dear Diary,
I know this is going to sound insane, but I really think my dad is trying to kill me. It all started a few weeks ago, he came over for one of his dutiful visits. We were sitting outside on the deck, and he was talking to me while I looked out at the neighborhood. He got a phone call and walked away to find my mom. In the meantime, I heard some birds in the trees, but I couldn't get my eyes to focus over that way. I could tell they were crows by their call. My dad came back out just then and threw his bottle of beer out towards the trees, yelling and swearing at the crows to take a hike. I could tell he was mad by his voice, but then I caught a glimpse of his face, and it scared me. He looked defeated. He sat down again and asked me if I was OK. He asked me how everything was going and told me a little bit about his latest work, but he was distracted. Suddenly he stopped and looked over at me. "Shawn, are you getting any of this? You aren't are you?" I certainly couldn't respond, though inside I was screaming "YES! YES I DO!" Then he dropped the less than subtle clue: "Maybe it'd be better if I ended your pain?" It was like a bullet to the chest, and now I am a lame duck, sitting, waiting, for my father to maybe-kill me.
Dear Diary,
I AM IN LOVE! The most perfect, beautiful, kind girl in the world, Ally, has taken over my consciousness and my daydreams. Sure, she thinks I'm pretty much a vegetable. Sure, I can't talk to her or touch her or even wave hi. But I know I love her. I find that all my time is now spent dreaming about her. In my dreams, I am a regular 14 year old. I can walk and talk and hold her close to me. This is the greatest feeling in the world. It has awoken in me a need to live. I can't stop thinking about this now: what if someone, somehow, was able to see through my disability and see that I am inside this body, alive and well! I want to be known, really known. No one knows me, the real Shawn, how could they? I can't tell them or show them all that I have inside of me, but now I know- it's a lot and it's something I want to find a way to share. I want to feel love and give love and have someone KNOW me. Maybe my dad wouldn't want to kill me if he knew that I wasn't in pain inside and that I do, in fact, understand everything that happens around me, I can even read! If he killed me today, no one would know that about me. No one would know anything about the real me.
Dear Diary,
So my father is digging deeper and deeper into this whole "ending my pain" thing, and I'm starting to worry. My mom gave us (me, Cindy, and Paul) some strange news the other morning. It started out like a regular morning, my mom feeding me oatmeal by the window in the kitchen. She was using her extra nice voice, so I was suspicious. Then she called down my brother and sister, and I knew just from the tone of her voice, that something was wrong. When my brother and sister got downstairs, mom announced that she had some news about dad. Paul instantly went on the defense, he has had a chip on his shoulder about dad since he left, and I can't say that I blame him. Mom explained that dad was beginning a new writing project, he would be doing a piece on Earl Detraux, the man in Washington state who killed his 2 year old son to "stop his pain" (his son had an awful seizure disorder and was, for all intents and purposes, brain dead.) Mom says he wants to help other families with children like Shawn, and spread awareness and support for those families and their children, because often they are misunderstood. I stopped listening. The further down the rabbit hole he goes, the more dangerous it becomes for me.
I know this is going to sound insane, but I really think my dad is trying to kill me. It all started a few weeks ago, he came over for one of his dutiful visits. We were sitting outside on the deck, and he was talking to me while I looked out at the neighborhood. He got a phone call and walked away to find my mom. In the meantime, I heard some birds in the trees, but I couldn't get my eyes to focus over that way. I could tell they were crows by their call. My dad came back out just then and threw his bottle of beer out towards the trees, yelling and swearing at the crows to take a hike. I could tell he was mad by his voice, but then I caught a glimpse of his face, and it scared me. He looked defeated. He sat down again and asked me if I was OK. He asked me how everything was going and told me a little bit about his latest work, but he was distracted. Suddenly he stopped and looked over at me. "Shawn, are you getting any of this? You aren't are you?" I certainly couldn't respond, though inside I was screaming "YES! YES I DO!" Then he dropped the less than subtle clue: "Maybe it'd be better if I ended your pain?" It was like a bullet to the chest, and now I am a lame duck, sitting, waiting, for my father to maybe-kill me.
Dear Diary,
I AM IN LOVE! The most perfect, beautiful, kind girl in the world, Ally, has taken over my consciousness and my daydreams. Sure, she thinks I'm pretty much a vegetable. Sure, I can't talk to her or touch her or even wave hi. But I know I love her. I find that all my time is now spent dreaming about her. In my dreams, I am a regular 14 year old. I can walk and talk and hold her close to me. This is the greatest feeling in the world. It has awoken in me a need to live. I can't stop thinking about this now: what if someone, somehow, was able to see through my disability and see that I am inside this body, alive and well! I want to be known, really known. No one knows me, the real Shawn, how could they? I can't tell them or show them all that I have inside of me, but now I know- it's a lot and it's something I want to find a way to share. I want to feel love and give love and have someone KNOW me. Maybe my dad wouldn't want to kill me if he knew that I wasn't in pain inside and that I do, in fact, understand everything that happens around me, I can even read! If he killed me today, no one would know that about me. No one would know anything about the real me.
Dear Diary,
So my father is digging deeper and deeper into this whole "ending my pain" thing, and I'm starting to worry. My mom gave us (me, Cindy, and Paul) some strange news the other morning. It started out like a regular morning, my mom feeding me oatmeal by the window in the kitchen. She was using her extra nice voice, so I was suspicious. Then she called down my brother and sister, and I knew just from the tone of her voice, that something was wrong. When my brother and sister got downstairs, mom announced that she had some news about dad. Paul instantly went on the defense, he has had a chip on his shoulder about dad since he left, and I can't say that I blame him. Mom explained that dad was beginning a new writing project, he would be doing a piece on Earl Detraux, the man in Washington state who killed his 2 year old son to "stop his pain" (his son had an awful seizure disorder and was, for all intents and purposes, brain dead.) Mom says he wants to help other families with children like Shawn, and spread awareness and support for those families and their children, because often they are misunderstood. I stopped listening. The further down the rabbit hole he goes, the more dangerous it becomes for me.