Shocking.
He comes in, undresses me. He puts me in his massive masculine bed. As I hide under the sheets he undresses. He says I am the wild mare that needs breaking in and he intends to do it. Then we make mad passionate SCREAMING love until I collapse in his arms.
I’m wearing gauze surgical underpants. I can’t think of rude things.
Fuck it – I can do what I like with my head. It fucks me up enough.
Wednesday 2.5.90
3.12 p.m.
I’m HOME!!
I don’t believe I wrote that last thing. But isn’t it a turn-on? Talk about gorgeous situations.
I’m allowed to feel sexy things too!
Thursday 3.5.90
6.35 p.m.
Battered Sausage just bRought me round a chilli con carne he’d made.
I have lovely friends.
9.35 p.m.
I can’t stop crying. Mum says it’s general anaesthetic. It might be but it’s also the fact I’ve done BUGGER ALL revision for my A levels. TOTAL PANIC.
Friday 4.5.90
9.00 p.m.
I’m so inadequate. Frigid. How wonderful it would be to hold him.
How can I be such a bitch? I mean I’d never do anything but . . . Haddock’s girlfriend is going through a really hard time and I’m listening to everything she says and I love her to bits but . . .
How can I even write this?!
11.45 p.m.
When my inadequacy gets the best of me . . .
When everyone else attacks
When I’m scared.
The solution to what I’m feeling is easy.
I just put my head on the pillow and I pretend that it’s him.
Arm around me stroking my hair.
Being a proper woman. Being safe. Feeling comfortable.
Why do guilt and reality exist?
Saturday 5.5.90
Late
Eurovision has just been won by the most boring song there has ever been. Some Italian crap about Europe uniting. AWFUL. And the Italians made ‘Ride on Time’ and ‘Numero Uno’. They should know better!
I can’t stay in anymore. I’ve had enough rest. I’m missing out. I’m spiralling down.
Sunday 6.5.90
4.02 p.m.
Mum thinks I’m mad for going to the pub tonight but look at yesterday – without other stuff I start going off it again. I need other people.
Monday 7.5.90
12.30 a.m.
Here’s how it is. He looks beautiful from the side. And I look like a house.
Just been to Olivers. What a laugh! Haddock told the DJ it was my 19th birthday. We were VOGUEING! He kept hugging me! Even when he’s striking a pose in a twat way he looks gorgeous.
He kept framing his face with his hands. Beautiful. But I beat down everything inside of me or I’d explode with it all.
Haddock. Vogue with me forever.
Tuesday 8.5.90
9.20 p.m.
It’s bloody ridiculous. I’ve had a major operation but all I can think of is my total inability as a person.
I’m frigid. I can’t hug people. And I’m so lonely. The loneliness eats me up. There is no-one who gets up in the morning, gets a passing glimpse of me in their head and thinks ‘You know I might see her today.’ I have A levels in less than a month. I can’t go to university. How can I move away? I love people who can’t love me back. I love the most impossibly beautiful man on earth.
How many more times do I have to smash all the bad from my head and hit myself. I am so ungrateful but most of the time I HATE MYSELF. That’s the cardinal sin. All the shrinks tell you to love yourself, if not you are completely useless. But HOW DO YOU LOVE YOURSELF? They don’t tell you HOW.
HOW DO YOU LOVE THIS?????????
Wednesday 9.5.90
11.25 p.m.
I wish I could bloody sleep. Did 3 hours revision last night. Feel better about school things at least.
Sod Gulliver’s Travels . Sod those tiny shits!
Why?
Why is someone’s beauty, strength, grace, intelligence and humour all spoiled by a person’s unfounded and utterly destructive dislike of themselves?
I don’t mean me. That makes more sense.
Thursday 10.5.90
10.35 p.m.
I didn’t tell you about Ryan.
Well you know when you get those sorts of vibes from people? Well he’s been hanging around me a lot and then tonight I said something and he said ‘Rae, I
He comes in, undresses me. He puts me in his massive masculine bed. As I hide under the sheets he undresses. He says I am the wild mare that needs breaking in and he intends to do it. Then we make mad passionate SCREAMING love until I collapse in his arms.
I’m wearing gauze surgical underpants. I can’t think of rude things.
Fuck it – I can do what I like with my head. It fucks me up enough.
Wednesday 2.5.90
3.12 p.m.
I’m HOME!!
I don’t believe I wrote that last thing. But isn’t it a turn-on? Talk about gorgeous situations.
I’m allowed to feel sexy things too!
Thursday 3.5.90
6.35 p.m.
Battered Sausage just bRought me round a chilli con carne he’d made.
I have lovely friends.
9.35 p.m.
I can’t stop crying. Mum says it’s general anaesthetic. It might be but it’s also the fact I’ve done BUGGER ALL revision for my A levels. TOTAL PANIC.
Friday 4.5.90
9.00 p.m.
I’m so inadequate. Frigid. How wonderful it would be to hold him.
How can I be such a bitch? I mean I’d never do anything but . . . Haddock’s girlfriend is going through a really hard time and I’m listening to everything she says and I love her to bits but . . .
How can I even write this?!
11.45 p.m.
When my inadequacy gets the best of me . . .
When everyone else attacks
When I’m scared.
The solution to what I’m feeling is easy.
I just put my head on the pillow and I pretend that it’s him.
Arm around me stroking my hair.
Being a proper woman. Being safe. Feeling comfortable.
Why do guilt and reality exist?
Saturday 5.5.90
Late
Eurovision has just been won by the most boring song there has ever been. Some Italian crap about Europe uniting. AWFUL. And the Italians made ‘Ride on Time’ and ‘Numero Uno’. They should know better!
I can’t stay in anymore. I’ve had enough rest. I’m missing out. I’m spiralling down.
Sunday 6.5.90
4.02 p.m.
Mum thinks I’m mad for going to the pub tonight but look at yesterday – without other stuff I start going off it again. I need other people.
Monday 7.5.90
12.30 a.m.
Here’s how it is. He looks beautiful from the side. And I look like a house.
Just been to Olivers. What a laugh! Haddock told the DJ it was my 19th birthday. We were VOGUEING! He kept hugging me! Even when he’s striking a pose in a twat way he looks gorgeous.
He kept framing his face with his hands. Beautiful. But I beat down everything inside of me or I’d explode with it all.
Haddock. Vogue with me forever.
Tuesday 8.5.90
9.20 p.m.
It’s bloody ridiculous. I’ve had a major operation but all I can think of is my total inability as a person.
I’m frigid. I can’t hug people. And I’m so lonely. The loneliness eats me up. There is no-one who gets up in the morning, gets a passing glimpse of me in their head and thinks ‘You know I might see her today.’ I have A levels in less than a month. I can’t go to university. How can I move away? I love people who can’t love me back. I love the most impossibly beautiful man on earth.
How many more times do I have to smash all the bad from my head and hit myself. I am so ungrateful but most of the time I HATE MYSELF. That’s the cardinal sin. All the shrinks tell you to love yourself, if not you are completely useless. But HOW DO YOU LOVE YOURSELF? They don’t tell you HOW.
HOW DO YOU LOVE THIS?????????
Wednesday 9.5.90
11.25 p.m.
I wish I could bloody sleep. Did 3 hours revision last night. Feel better about school things at least.
Sod Gulliver’s Travels . Sod those tiny shits!
Why?
Why is someone’s beauty, strength, grace, intelligence and humour all spoiled by a person’s unfounded and utterly destructive dislike of themselves?
I don’t mean me. That makes more sense.
Thursday 10.5.90
10.35 p.m.
I didn’t tell you about Ryan.
Well you know when you get those sorts of vibes from people? Well he’s been hanging around me a lot and then tonight I said something and he said ‘Rae, I
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