I’m am now THREE
I have learned how to block out adult voices now. Build walls, strong, tough walls so I don’t cry as much. I keep pretty much to myself and the world in my mind now. I don’t care if I get hugs and kisses anymore (that’s just for babies anyway)
I have learned that if I yell and scream, eventually . . . someone will notice. The worst that can happen is I will be put in a room by myself, that’s how I live anyway so not much lost there. At least they noticed me for a minute.
I have learned that living someone else’s experiences on TV passes the time better than just staring at the walls.
I have learned that the other kids on that TV have a lot more fun than me.
I am learning that I am NOT acceptable as me.
It does not matter how I feel
It does not matter what I like or don’t like
It does not matter what I want or don’t want
It does not matter what I think
I am not to question or object to anything period. It is because “they said so”
I don’t have the right to be scared or fearful of anything “ My fears are foolish” It’s only a show they say, it’s not real but shows are my whole world so far . . . What does that mean? I just don’t get it! Am I real? What does real mean anyway?
I need to wear my hair like . . .
wear cloths like . . .,
look like . . . ,
behave like . . .,
be polite like . . .,
learn to like . . . it’s the latest, newest
practice to be good at . . . just because
I’ll be OK once I figure out how to quit being me and start being what mom and dad feel is the better and improved me. OR Maybe I’ll just tune it all out till I get out of here. just Play their game . . . For now. Once I get to school I’ll figure out WHO I really want to be.
As long as it’s not the real me, I should be ok! (maybe if I’d been born as a phone . . .)