People are saying it's a flood and I fucking hate it. I need to feel in control of myself, if nothing else, and the floods take that away. It scares me more than I like to admit.
I'm not as strong as you think. I depend on other people for my sense of self-worth and when I don't have anybody, I desperately cling to bravado and my memories of a time when I did.
I'm positive you're a stronger person than I am and before I started trusting you, I hated you for it. I wanted you to suffer for that.
I think you would probably have hated me more if I was a weak person, so I'm okay with that. However, I'm still terrified of what you'll do to me - not because I fear pain, but because I'm afraid of how it will change me. The closest I've ever come to quitting anything in my life is when you threw chemicals in my eyes.
You have value. You are a brave woman and a fighter. That's why I stay. I don't quit because I know you're tough.
I would have. I would have hated you so much more that I can't even begin to convey it.
I feel better about myself when people fear me...and when I cause them to hurt. I'm angry at the entire fuckin' world, I have been since I was a teenager because of what my parents did to me, and because no one helped me when I was suffering I think they all deserve to suffer too. That last part didn't start until Matthews called me a junkie bitch and told me I was nothing, but the anger has always been there.
I'm afraid to graduate and that's why I don't want it to happen.
You know what my father did. He locked me in the dark and abused me. My mother started using drugs when I was little and blamed me for the way my father hurt her, but sometimes she could be kind. They were both drunks and my mother neglected me a lot but I still loved her. Then she ran out on my father and left me with him. I fucking hate her for not taking me with her! She knew that he abused me too and she just fucking abandoned me!
I don't know if she's alive or dead and I don't care. I don't even want to find out because I'm afraid knowing will change things.
I can't change things or erase the past, but I can listen and not pass judgment if you ever just want to talk about your parents. I wish I could give you a hug. It makes me uncomfortable to hug or touch people, and I don't think you want one, anyway.
But I really think you need a hug sometimes.
Your mother was wrong to leave you in that situation, but it was probably because she was selfish and didn't know how to take care of a child, which is what I believe to be the case based on my own horrible childhood.
I don't think your life would have been better if your mother had taken you, because mine wasn't.
I think I could only let John or Jill hold me at this point, anyway. I like it when you make contact with me, like when you touched my arm while I was recovering from the heroin, but I would feel threatened by anything more and that's why I snap at people when they put their hands on me. I don't mind putting my hands on people because it makes me feel in control.
I think sometimes that I wouldn't have started cutting if she had taken me away. I started because I was so fuckin' angry and I needed something to control, and I couldn't control what my father did to me! She was usually neglectful and high or drunk most of the time but she never put her hands on me.
Was your childhood anything like the shit I had to go through?
I want to know if you still cut yourself, but I'm afraid to ask because I don't know what to do to help you if you are. I think this makes me a coward, but until I have a solution, I don't want to make it worse. Instead, I take you camping. I think we bond while camping, because once you get good enough at it, you'll start to feel in control of a situation like starting a fire or marking a trail or putting up a tent, and it will become something you enjoy. Maybe you'll stop being so angry if we have something we can do together, without anyone else around
( ... )
I would cut myself if I had anything to do it with. I did it a few months back and a friend lent me medical supplies to treat and dress the wounds. I've taken to using an eraser and rubbing it against my inner thighs until I draw blood.
I don't mind the camping as much as I let on anymore. I actually like it a little but I don't say that because it seems like admitting defeat. I know that's ridiculous but I'm just stubborn as hell.
I'm arrogant about my work, too. It proves I'm not just some junkie slut, and that I'm not like my parents, and that I'm not stupid like my father always rammed down my throat. I'm fucking smart and that means more to me than you might suspect. John said my rapid learning and comprehension showed signs of actual genius, and that if I'd been raised in a different environment, I might have done something great before I joined him in his work
( ... )
I really don't like you hurting yourself. It's almost like doing the work for other people who want to do you harm. Maybe we'll start swimming or exercise regimens. If you're getting your energy out through physical effort, you might not feel inclined to hurt yourself.
I didn't realize you read because you enjoyed learning. I though it was only because John suggested books to you.
I'm an assistant professor at Princeton. Would you let me teach you?
Also, please tell me who the friend was. I want to go yell at them for interfering.
I act like that's the only reason I read, because I want to be what he wanted me to be. I wish I could purge what I am right now and fill myself with the things he expected of me, and everything I know he would approve of, because I hate almost everything about myself.
I'll let you teach me. I might act like a bitch while you do it but I really will appreciate it.
It was Rex. I don't want you to yell at him because he's probably the reason why it didn't get infected and he didn't judge me for it. He didn't ask for an explanation or a reason, he just let me treat my wounds and he acted like a fucking gentleman about it. He's my only real friend but I can't tell anyone else because I think Hoffman would kill him to hurt me. He told me I taught him to appreciate his family the other day, and after our conversation was over and I shut off my communicator I cried because I was touched. Don't talk to him about this, Sarah! You said I could have my privacy!
I'm not going to say anything to Rex. I like and respect him and think he was probably only trying to help. He already promised me not to interfere anymore, anyway.
I wish you could be independent of John. I know you love him, but I don't think it's healthy for you to place the entirety of your self-worth on the shoulders of one man, not only because he might one day disappoint you, but because you are so much more than whatever he would have approved of, and I can see it in you.
You run the risk of losing yourself if you try to be what someone else wants of you. That's why I'm afraid of you transferring these feelings to me. But maybe it won't be so bad if you do, because I want you to do what you want, not what I want.
You'll never be John's equivalent, but you're the closest thing I have to a leader here and I don't know how to be happy anymore unless I'm serving someone. John named me his successor but I never could have followed in his footsteps. I'm proud of being the one he wanted to become the new Jigsaw out of all three of his apprentices, but I would self-destruct if I was put in charge, and I realized when he had his seizure that I didn't want to outlive him. Sometimes I'm glad I didn't need to see him die and that I went first, even though I can never forgive Hoffman for the look on John's face when he watched me dying.
I would be happy to die for someone because I feel that's the ultimate thing anyone can give to those they love, and that by saving those I love at the cost of my life I'd be worthwhile to them forever and wouldn't need to fear failing them. It doesn't work that way here, where I can come back, but I'd be willing to keep sacrificing myself to prove my value.
[Also totally affected!]
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I don't want you to be scared. You're a very strong woman and I respect you for it.
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I'm positive you're a stronger person than I am and before I started trusting you, I hated you for it. I wanted you to suffer for that.
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You have value. You are a brave woman and a fighter. That's why I stay. I don't quit because I know you're tough.
You're going to graduate.
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I feel better about myself when people fear me...and when I cause them to hurt. I'm angry at the entire fuckin' world, I have been since I was a teenager because of what my parents did to me, and because no one helped me when I was suffering I think they all deserve to suffer too. That last part didn't start until Matthews called me a junkie bitch and told me I was nothing, but the anger has always been there.
I'm afraid to graduate and that's why I don't want it to happen.
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What did your parents do to you?
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I don't know if she's alive or dead and I don't care. I don't even want to find out because I'm afraid knowing will change things.
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But I really think you need a hug sometimes.
Your mother was wrong to leave you in that situation, but it was probably because she was selfish and didn't know how to take care of a child, which is what I believe to be the case based on my own horrible childhood.
I don't think your life would have been better if your mother had taken you, because mine wasn't.
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I think sometimes that I wouldn't have started cutting if she had taken me away. I started because I was so fuckin' angry and I needed something to control, and I couldn't control what my father did to me! She was usually neglectful and high or drunk most of the time but she never put her hands on me.
Was your childhood anything like the shit I had to go through?
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I don't mind the camping as much as I let on anymore. I actually like it a little but I don't say that because it seems like admitting defeat. I know that's ridiculous but I'm just stubborn as hell.
I'm arrogant about my work, too. It proves I'm not just some junkie slut, and that I'm not like my parents, and that I'm not stupid like my father always rammed down my throat. I'm fucking smart and that means more to me than you might suspect. John said my rapid learning and comprehension showed signs of actual genius, and that if I'd been raised in a different environment, I might have done something great before I joined him in his work ( ... )
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I didn't realize you read because you enjoyed learning. I though it was only because John suggested books to you.
I'm an assistant professor at Princeton. Would you let me teach you?
Also, please tell me who the friend was. I want to go yell at them for interfering.
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I'll let you teach me. I might act like a bitch while you do it but I really will appreciate it.
It was Rex. I don't want you to yell at him because he's probably the reason why it didn't get infected and he didn't judge me for it. He didn't ask for an explanation or a reason, he just let me treat my wounds and he acted like a fucking gentleman about it. He's my only real friend but I can't tell anyone else because I think Hoffman would kill him to hurt me. He told me I taught him to appreciate his family the other day, and after our conversation was over and I shut off my communicator I cried because I was touched. Don't talk to him about this, Sarah! You said I could have my privacy!
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I wish you could be independent of John. I know you love him, but I don't think it's healthy for you to place the entirety of your self-worth on the shoulders of one man, not only because he might one day disappoint you, but because you are so much more than whatever he would have approved of, and I can see it in you.
You run the risk of losing yourself if you try to be what someone else wants of you. That's why I'm afraid of you transferring these feelings to me. But maybe it won't be so bad if you do, because I want you to do what you want, not what I want.
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I would be happy to die for someone because I feel that's the ultimate thing anyone can give to those they love, and that by saving those I love at the cost of my life I'd be worthwhile to them forever and wouldn't need to fear failing them. It doesn't work that way here, where I can come back, but I'd be willing to keep sacrificing myself to prove my value.
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I don't know how to help you. I'm really trying, but I don't know what I'm doing and wish I could just make everything all right for you.
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