JANUARY 20, 1990
Diary | Age 12 | Tacoma
I guess I wanted to end sounding triumphant and superior. But instead I ended like a fool.
"I hope your guilt remains with you," I scream, profanities and curses racing through my mind as I march up the stairs.
"Sarah, I don't feel any guilt." In the distance she screams.
"Well for God's sake I do!!" And with that, I race to my forsaken room, bursting ever more with tears of pure hate. Now I sit waiting for what may happen next. For it was only today that mom measured to see I had risen one more inch.
Happens much too fast. Anger pushes out 'you' and replaces with a stranger created by unstable mesh of stress. Anne, does this happen to you?
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