.... How DARE they presume to know what's best for me?

Don't haul me back from Bliss and expect me to be grateful.

Look, it wasn't an accidental overdose, no matter how much saying that relieves you of your responsibility, removes you from the scene and vindicates all your vitriol.

No, it wasn't any silly cry for help (from an 8-yearold??)... I did it in the middle of the night when I had privacy and plenty of time.   And for God's sakes stop saying how much you love me.

If you loved me then you wouldn't send me to my room for everything and anything.  If you loved me then you wouldn't lock the door behind me and make me spend hours in a room with no water and no toilet.
If you loved me you'd listen to me instead of ridiculing and belittling everything I do.

You'd stop making up stories about things I'm supposed to have done and then sit smugly in the living room listening to my screams as Dad lays into me with the plant sticks... God that hurt, little whippy things tore into my skin, leaving green dyed splinters.  You do realise that when he ran out of sticks, he used his belt... buckle end first.  You did know, didn't you?  

I'm 8.   Not 18.... I had to look up those words you called me.  Slut.  Whore.  Hussy.
I'm shattered... you can't really mean those things?

Honestly... all I do is go to school, sit on the swings at the park, go on errands to the shops for you and dream of Home.  In what way do I challenge you?   Boys are silly, I don't have time for them, so don't get the idea I've a boyfriend or anything.... you know I don't have friends.  Not since my 6th Birthday party.  I don't want friends, you'll only get rid of them again.

Now you say you love me... adore me, your little princess... how awful, having a daughter on suicide watch at the age of 8.  It can't have been you can it?  Think of all the attention your friends (so-called) and your workmates will give you when they hear about this.  Poor June.  Whatever has she done to deserve such an ungrateful child?
...and so it continues... another reason to shut me out, another reason to hate me, will it ever end?

Emotionally I become sterile, I shut the world out and live for another world, another time.  I'm trapped in a place I have to tolerate, dished out pain I have to take.  If I complain, I'm ungrateful... if I remain silent, I'm sulky, sullen.
I try to copy how others interact with the world, externally cope but shut down inside.

I guess it was in that time I learned how to remove my consciousness from my physical and allow life to happen without feeling the pain.

Not until the 1st November 1972 that is....