"Dr. Hoover, I'm concerned about how well she's coping."
"I have to tell you the truth, Charlie. This isn't considered good coping."
"You'd rather she was still crying?"
"It would be healthier if she was showing any signs of being upset at all. You said she hasn't even mentioned the incident?"
"No, not since the day it happened."
"Which was when?"
"Three days ago. She woke up on our couch the next morning and didn't mention the incident once. She didn't ask about the girl, and she didn't cry at all."
"I've seen things similar to this before. Some people, children included, after experiencing something extremely traumatic, experience extreme suppression of memories. The memory basically erases itself i an attempt to hide from the trauma of the experience."
"Is this harmful?"
"Not necessarily, but it is always healthier to recognize a problem and work through it."
"I understand that, but at this point I don't think it is really a good idea to remind her of it if she's perfectly happy right now. Especially after what the police found."
"Yes, that poor girl. We should both send our condolences to the family."
"Yes. And my daughter? She'll be fine?"
"I recommend therapy. I'd be more than happy to work with her."
"I think we'll just let her be happy unless a problem arises. She's only six years old. Maybe she'll never have to deal with the pain if her brain never remembers."
"As a physician I cannot say this is my best recommendation."
"Yes, but someday you'll be a parent, and you'll understand. Thank you, Dr. Hoover."
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
A Voicemail to Charlie
Hi sweetheart, it's Susan. Please call me back when you get a chance. Something really terrible happened today and I'm scared.
Our sweet Amber was walking home from school like she always does and was talking to a girl she knew from school. The girl was standing on the side closest to the street when a van pulled up and a "scary man," as Amber described him, pulled up and grabbed the other girl. Amber screamed and screamed and then when nobody came she took whatever miraculous blessing of a chance she had and ran. I assume the man just didn't want to cause a scene so he drove off. Amber came running into the kitchen where I was washing dishes. She had smudged tear stains on her face and was sobbing so hard she couldn't speak for at least five minutes. I held our little six year old in my arms until her breathing slowed and she told me the story. I was horrified. I called the police instantly and they said they'd do everything they could to find the girl.
She cried for about an hour after that, the poor girl. She didn't know what else to do, she was so terrified. I'm sure I'll never let her walk home without an adult again. She's asleep on the couch now as I'm writing you. Please call me when you can, we need you. I love you.
April 10, 1998
Our sweet Amber was walking home from school like she always does and was talking to a girl she knew from school. The girl was standing on the side closest to the street when a van pulled up and a "scary man," as Amber described him, pulled up and grabbed the other girl. Amber screamed and screamed and then when nobody came she took whatever miraculous blessing of a chance she had and ran. I assume the man just didn't want to cause a scene so he drove off. Amber came running into the kitchen where I was washing dishes. She had smudged tear stains on her face and was sobbing so hard she couldn't speak for at least five minutes. I held our little six year old in my arms until her breathing slowed and she told me the story. I was horrified. I called the police instantly and they said they'd do everything they could to find the girl.
She cried for about an hour after that, the poor girl. She didn't know what else to do, she was so terrified. I'm sure I'll never let her walk home without an adult again. She's asleep on the couch now as I'm writing you. Please call me when you can, we need you. I love you.
April 10, 1998
Health Log: Day 473
January 1, 2012
This is weird. Very weird. They thought I was weird, but no, I'm telling you, this is weirder! What's it been...three and a half years since I started seeing Dr. Hoover, and didn't make much progress? In fact, I made negative progress for a while there. Mom and dad even put me in a weird private school when it came time to switch from junior high to high school (mostly on mom's insistence) because they didn't want me to "ruin my chances at finding normal friends." That seemed a little harsh at the time, and I resented them a little for it, but now I totally see what they meant!
Looking back it's like watching someone else live life through my body. How I ever saw the world like I did is beyond me. Yes, it still seems a bit off balance, but there are so many beautiful, perfect parts of it that are exactly balanced! If that makes sense at all. Last night I was at my family's new year's party and right after midnight my head started to spin a little bit and then for the first time since I could remember I felt very peaceful. I was in the backyard and the moon was full, and as I looked up at it through the fireworks, nothing felt crooked anymore. Before it bothered me almost to the point that it made my skin crawl, but instead of rising to a climax like it had felt like it was doing, it was now gone, as if I had slid to the bottom of the OCD meter. This is fantastic! I love it! Four hundred and seventy-three entries later, it looks like I won't have to be keeping this log anymore!
Celeste
This is weird. Very weird. They thought I was weird, but no, I'm telling you, this is weirder! What's it been...three and a half years since I started seeing Dr. Hoover, and didn't make much progress? In fact, I made negative progress for a while there. Mom and dad even put me in a weird private school when it came time to switch from junior high to high school (mostly on mom's insistence) because they didn't want me to "ruin my chances at finding normal friends." That seemed a little harsh at the time, and I resented them a little for it, but now I totally see what they meant!
Looking back it's like watching someone else live life through my body. How I ever saw the world like I did is beyond me. Yes, it still seems a bit off balance, but there are so many beautiful, perfect parts of it that are exactly balanced! If that makes sense at all. Last night I was at my family's new year's party and right after midnight my head started to spin a little bit and then for the first time since I could remember I felt very peaceful. I was in the backyard and the moon was full, and as I looked up at it through the fireworks, nothing felt crooked anymore. Before it bothered me almost to the point that it made my skin crawl, but instead of rising to a climax like it had felt like it was doing, it was now gone, as if I had slid to the bottom of the OCD meter. This is fantastic! I love it! Four hundred and seventy-three entries later, it looks like I won't have to be keeping this log anymore!
Celeste
Dear Diary
October 3, 2006
Why does this always happen to me? Becky told me today that she doesn't want to hang around me anymore. Something about a rumor she heard. I've never done anything to hurt her, or anyone. She was my best friend. What am I going to do without her? I just started at Icarus Prep and being a sophomore in high school is hard enough without having some random rumor steal all your friends. Not that I've really had all that many. They always run after a while. All I am is nice...isn't that what people want in a friend?
We had so much fun all the time! After all those girls nights and painted nails you'd think she'd believe me over a rumor, or at least tell me what the rumor was. No. I wonder who is spreading these rumors. Why won't anyone trust me?
Last week I took cookies to Joanna because I heard she was sick. We used to be friends in junior high until one day she stopped answering my calls and decided to give me the silent treatment at school. Everybody sided with her, naturally, because there's something about me that just repels people. Something I can't see.
I asked Ben yesterday if there was something wrong with me. He's one of the only friends who's stuck with me all through growing up, and I knew he'd tell it to me straight. He said some girls say I come off fake sometimes. I asked him if he thought so and he was quick to say, "Of course not." See, he's super nice, but people love him. Maybe guys are allowed to be nice but girls aren't. That's ridiculous.
Well, Lizzy needs some help with homework and that's what big sisters are for. I'll keep you posted.
Amber
Why does this always happen to me? Becky told me today that she doesn't want to hang around me anymore. Something about a rumor she heard. I've never done anything to hurt her, or anyone. She was my best friend. What am I going to do without her? I just started at Icarus Prep and being a sophomore in high school is hard enough without having some random rumor steal all your friends. Not that I've really had all that many. They always run after a while. All I am is nice...isn't that what people want in a friend?
We had so much fun all the time! After all those girls nights and painted nails you'd think she'd believe me over a rumor, or at least tell me what the rumor was. No. I wonder who is spreading these rumors. Why won't anyone trust me?
Last week I took cookies to Joanna because I heard she was sick. We used to be friends in junior high until one day she stopped answering my calls and decided to give me the silent treatment at school. Everybody sided with her, naturally, because there's something about me that just repels people. Something I can't see.
I asked Ben yesterday if there was something wrong with me. He's one of the only friends who's stuck with me all through growing up, and I knew he'd tell it to me straight. He said some girls say I come off fake sometimes. I asked him if he thought so and he was quick to say, "Of course not." See, he's super nice, but people love him. Maybe guys are allowed to be nice but girls aren't. That's ridiculous.
Well, Lizzy needs some help with homework and that's what big sisters are for. I'll keep you posted.
Amber
Health Log: Day 1
The doctor wants me to start keeping a "health log" that documents my progress. I'm not sure what he means by progress. I think he and my parents want me to stop being weird, but I don't really understand what exactly that entails. In this log he wants me to tell details about myself and track how I feel about...things. I think he started along this line of thinking when I told him in our session today that the whole world is out of balance. Apparently most people don't see it that way. I think mom and dad want him to make me not see it that way, but it seems pretty impossible to me. I don't really see the point in all these sessions. I'm fine. What business do I have visiting a psychiatrist? This is for crazy people, right? I'm not crazy.
Oh yeah. It's January 17, 2008, and I'm 14 years old. I think I was supposed to put that at the top.
Anyway, mom got mad at me for counting the ceiling tiles again. What's wrong with counting? She gets mad at me for that a lot. That and separating my foods. And color coordinating my clothes. I don't get what the big deal is.
My friends have started commenting on how weird it is that I line my pencils up with the edge of my desk at school. I guess if nobody else does it, they must be right: it is weird. But they should be straight, right? So I'll keep doing that. Mom says I should try to outgrow these habits before I hit high school at Icarus Preparatory Academy. Sounds like a fun enough place, and maybe people would stop giving me funny looks if I wasn't so "obsessive compulsive--with a flare" as Dr. Hoover calls it. To be honest, I do kinda wish I could get away from this mindset sometimes. Seems like all the people who don't straighten things might be living the good life in ignorance. It doesn't look crooked to them, I'm told. Wouldn't that be nice.
Celeste
Oh yeah. It's January 17, 2008, and I'm 14 years old. I think I was supposed to put that at the top.
Anyway, mom got mad at me for counting the ceiling tiles again. What's wrong with counting? She gets mad at me for that a lot. That and separating my foods. And color coordinating my clothes. I don't get what the big deal is.
My friends have started commenting on how weird it is that I line my pencils up with the edge of my desk at school. I guess if nobody else does it, they must be right: it is weird. But they should be straight, right? So I'll keep doing that. Mom says I should try to outgrow these habits before I hit high school at Icarus Preparatory Academy. Sounds like a fun enough place, and maybe people would stop giving me funny looks if I wasn't so "obsessive compulsive--with a flare" as Dr. Hoover calls it. To be honest, I do kinda wish I could get away from this mindset sometimes. Seems like all the people who don't straighten things might be living the good life in ignorance. It doesn't look crooked to them, I'm told. Wouldn't that be nice.
Celeste
Monday, March 26, 2012
I'm Back, Journal
Get this. My new creative writing teacher at my new horrible school is making us keep a journal. (She called it a diary, just like they all do, but I'm sticking with my previous statements about diaries.) She seemed thrilled when I told her I already had one. I'm glad one of us was.
The prompt today was, ironically: Tell about a trial you've experienced recently and how it made you feel.
Yuck. Touchy feely feelings again. But this is really ironic timing. It's only been a few weeks since we moved down here, and mom asked me yesterday why I've been so cranky. I'm wondering why she finds this to be a new occurrence, since I haven't exactly been the cheeriest person for a while now. I told her a few too many break ups and back stabs had put me over the edge. Somehow she didn't believe me. (Maybe she really did pay attention, and had known I'd never had a boyfriend or friends I let close enough to betray me....) I finally just told her I wasn't ever happy at home. She and dad had always been weird, and I didn't fit in. I wasn't stupid. If she had any brains at all this wouldn't surprise her.
She had brains. Turns out she had more in hers than I had in mine, too. Out come the tears and the truth. Guess what, Journal? I'm adopted. You'd think I'd be the one to cry, right? But no, mom (foster mom?) took care of the water works. I just yelled some more, and mostly shut down. The whole thing is stupid. Who adopts a kid and then thinks it's okay not to tell them?
Whatevs. I spend a lot of time at school now, because, impossibly, it's gotten worse at home. I'd rather be avoiding homework under the wonderfully nosey staff of Icarus Prep than with a lonely, secret keeping "mom." It's been a long week.
Jade
The prompt today was, ironically: Tell about a trial you've experienced recently and how it made you feel.
Yuck. Touchy feely feelings again. But this is really ironic timing. It's only been a few weeks since we moved down here, and mom asked me yesterday why I've been so cranky. I'm wondering why she finds this to be a new occurrence, since I haven't exactly been the cheeriest person for a while now. I told her a few too many break ups and back stabs had put me over the edge. Somehow she didn't believe me. (Maybe she really did pay attention, and had known I'd never had a boyfriend or friends I let close enough to betray me....) I finally just told her I wasn't ever happy at home. She and dad had always been weird, and I didn't fit in. I wasn't stupid. If she had any brains at all this wouldn't surprise her.
She had brains. Turns out she had more in hers than I had in mine, too. Out come the tears and the truth. Guess what, Journal? I'm adopted. You'd think I'd be the one to cry, right? But no, mom (foster mom?) took care of the water works. I just yelled some more, and mostly shut down. The whole thing is stupid. Who adopts a kid and then thinks it's okay not to tell them?
Whatevs. I spend a lot of time at school now, because, impossibly, it's gotten worse at home. I'd rather be avoiding homework under the wonderfully nosey staff of Icarus Prep than with a lonely, secret keeping "mom." It's been a long week.
Jade
Sup, Journal
It's been a while since I wrote to you, and Teach got a little upset when she found out. I told her I lost you, and she didn't quite like that. She handed me another one of you and told me to restart, and I told her no thanks, I'd find you. Then I told her I didn't know why she cared, I was moving the next day, and she said she wanted one last letter before I went. She didn't care what the topic was, she just wanted me to write. What her fascination with you is, I have no idea.
It's not you, it's me. Things have been crazy what with prepping for the move and all. Dad's pretty M.I.A., but I'm guessing that's because if he came around here mom might stab him with the nearest butcher knife. She's taken to wearing an apron and carrying all sorts of sharp kitchen crap in the pockets, which is getting a little creepy.
The other night he did have the nerve to come over, when he thought I was out at a friend's. I came home and sat on the porch outside the door and heard them yelling something about me. Truth was, I didn't want to hear it, so I didn't listen. I pounded on the door before my mom could get past, "Just because she isn't the same way you are, or the same way I am..."
I wouldn't want to be like them, anyway.
Here's to a good run,
Jade
It's not you, it's me. Things have been crazy what with prepping for the move and all. Dad's pretty M.I.A., but I'm guessing that's because if he came around here mom might stab him with the nearest butcher knife. She's taken to wearing an apron and carrying all sorts of sharp kitchen crap in the pockets, which is getting a little creepy.
The other night he did have the nerve to come over, when he thought I was out at a friend's. I came home and sat on the porch outside the door and heard them yelling something about me. Truth was, I didn't want to hear it, so I didn't listen. I pounded on the door before my mom could get past, "Just because she isn't the same way you are, or the same way I am..."
I wouldn't want to be like them, anyway.
Here's to a good run,
Jade
Kill me, Journal
Topic: Express an emotion you are feeling today.
Really? Where do they get these topics, fortune cookies? Please. Well, they asked for it.
It turns out the bags under her eyes weren't left over from my childhood screaming draining the life out of her. Apparently my dad's been working her over for a long time and she'd finally had enough. That's why we're moving. Whatever he did, she couldn't handle even staying in the same state as him. I'm not sure if I want to know, and if I do, I'm not sure I want to ask. I figure they'll tell me eventually.
I've seen stuff like this on T.V. Parents with a kid decide to split up and they fight over the kid for a while. Lots of tears and anger and bitterness. Not sure if Hollywood just likes to glam it up or if I'm just not my dad's fav, but there didn't seem to be an argument. I'm going with my mom to San Diego, California.
I can't lie: I was pretty ticked. No tears, of course, but a whole ton of yelling. It's hot there, Journal. They tell me it's nice, and the weather is great, and we are right next to a beach, and I'll get a great tan, and words words words...but it's a joke. The sun's out all the time. I hate the sun being out all the time. It gives me headaches every freaking moment of every day, and I'm not sure why anyone enjoys squinting everywhere they go. Besides, don't they know I can't tan? But in a week we'll be on our way to the wonderful city of red burns and yellow blindness. Awesome. Sign me up.
I'm dreading the sun more than I'm dreading my parents separating. Does that make me a bad person? Not sure if I care at this point. Wait, no, I don't care. If they can't get along, fine. I don't care. I was never really that tight with my dad anyway.
Well, Journal, as usual, it was miserable talking to you. Have a lovely nap in my drawer.
Jade
Dear Journal
Since I'm sure you care (not), I'm writing to tell you how much I hate you. It's the sad truth, but you had to find out eventually, figured I'd make it my very first entry. The only reason I'm writing to you is because my English teacher is making me keep a diary to help flesh out my ideas or something ridiculous like that. Whatevs. Here we are.
Now that we got that out of the way, the prompt for today is to talk about when and where we were born. Because apparently our birth, that moment we had no control over and can't even remember, is important to some people. Who woulda thought.
I was born in Seattle, Washington, which I have to say is pretty chill. Not too cold, and definitely not too hot. I've lived here my whole life, all 17 super impact-full years of it. Nothin' better than the cold rain soaking you down to the bone in the middle of a really dark night. I was born in 1994, and if I could remember anything else about it I'd tell ya. My mom says I cried a lot, for a long time. I guess I feel kind of bad, seeing as the bags under her eyes still haven't gone away and it's been over 15 years. But I'm happy to have gotten all my tears out back then, when they couldn't hold it against me. I'm proud to say I don't know how to cry anymore, and there's nothing to regret about that.
So that's that. I was born. I've lived. Gotta love stupid prompts, yeah?
Til the next assignment,
Jade
Oh and by the way, Journal, I refuse to call you Diary. I won't do it. The term is all mushy and emotional, implying that you'll hold all my deepest, darkest secrets. Don't get your hopes up if that's what you're expecting. I have none. The fact that I like dark chocolate over milk chocolate is about as deep and dark as they come.
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