Last night I had a nightmare. One severe enough for John to have to hold me down so I wouldn't hit him and yell at me to wake up.

I was having a memory dream. Reliving a bad experience that happened to me when I was young. It was a dream about my stepfather. I haven't told John about it because he would feel really bad for not comforting me last night, but he was in pain so it was ok.

What wasn't ok was after he woke me up I couldn't get back to sleep. I didn't end up getting back to sleep till about 4am. It's been like that pretty much every night this week. I don't know what it is. It may be because for some reason our airconditioning isn't working at night and it's just too hot. But maybe it's something else.

Lately when I can't sleep I find myself lying in bed thinking about what has happened to me in my life. I mean fuck, by the time I hit highschool I'd experienced more in my life then most adults have. I got robbed of my childhood. Robbed of being a niave, innocent girl who cared of nothing but boys and makeup and friends.

Instead I had to worry about my family falling apart, abuse and rape, in their real terms. As well as being rapped of my dreams. I spent alot of time in hospitals, or in bed. I never got to graduate highschool because of the pain I suffered.

I mean a person just can't get those things back. I'm not saying I haven't had a good life, if it wasn't for those things I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't be the strong and independant person I am. I wouldn't be self sufficiant, or know how to ask for help.

Cause that is one thing I have learnt in my life, it is important to know when to ask for help. There is only so much one person can handle, how much one person's emotions and mind can take. We all have a breaking point.

I had my second Jazz lesson tonight. Half way through the lesson when we were going over our routine I almost gave up. There was just this one move that I couldn't do, I still can't do. Every time the class would get to that step I'd fuck up, go completely the wrong way and loose my balance. I felt so downtroden and defeated.

I remember back in the day when I would of been the one teaching the routine. I miss dancing. I mean I still dance, I can't help but wiggle around like a retard when my favourite tunes come on. But I miss Ballet, Jazz and Modern. I miss not being afraid and not doubting that I would totally blow the crowd away when I got up on stage and danced.

So when the music started again, I tried again, and again, and again. But I still fucked it up. To this minute I still get it wrong. But I'm determined. I can't stand how everyone looks at me and thinks, oh well atleast she's trying with all her problems.

I'm sick of teachers, people I look up to, allowing my stuff ups just because I have a disability. There is nothing more in the world I would want then to be treated like a normal person. I guess that's cause that is what I want, to be a normal person. Not tell friends I can't go shopping with them because I know I would end up getting depressed cause I have to sit down cause I'm getting warn out and aventually get left behind and be walking around by myself.

I want to go shopping with my friends and enjoy myself. I want to play with my dog (that's if he was still here) and not worry about tripping over and hurting myself.

Ok I think I should stop rambling now. My brother is here and we're watching Transformers for the fourth time. If you have read up till here, sorry was wasting your time with my mindless dribble.

I used to spend my free time with friends, partying, smoking drugs and drinking a shit load of alcohol. But these days my time seems to be spent vaccuming the floor, cleaning the toilet, doing the washing, folding clothes.

I mean John and I still have fun together, we watch movies, go bowling with my brother, cruising with my club. But I miss the days when I never made plans not because I never knew if John would have to work, but because I didn't need to! I would be partying! I always had clothes in my car and as soon as the bell rang we were off, up to Spice or to the nearest beat booming house.

I still remember the first time I ever hung out with the Ben Nevis boys. We got stoned in the park and headed back to Leigh's to get trashed and watch movies. Except it turned out to be this huge party with almost all the kids from Tambo and some from the Village. These days we're lucky to go round to Chris's on a Saturday.

I knew when I started up the relationship with John that my life on the social scene would quieten down, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I love spending time with John, just laying on the couch watching tv. But it's the rest of the time that gets to me.

Because I don't work I spend most of my time being a domestic, and John just doesn't seem to appreciate it sometimes. I know that he does, he just doesn't show it. And lately he's been acting as if my opinion doesn't matter anymore.

Like this evening when dinner was getting cooked. I said I would cook, he said he wanted to so I said we'd do it together. But when I walked into the kitchen and turned up the heat on the stove he turned it back down and said I didn't know what I was talking about.

I feel as if he forgets sometimes what I have done all my life. I've worked in kitchen's since I was in primary school. I worked as a head chef for a year and had training from Chef's who's not only worked and trained in, but owned 5 star resturants. I know my shit! But I don't think he understands that.

I know that he likes to cook and used to do it at Highschool, but sometimes I just wish he'd listen to my knowledge and experience.

I think it's time to give up on my Pumba He's been gone for two weeks today and we haven't heard anything of him for well over a week.

I want him back. And if I can't have him back, I need to get another puppy. I need someone here that I love and loves me and wants to spend time with me. That lets me smother it in hugs and throw a ball for it. I don't feel the same without my Pumba.

There is only 9 days left till Christmas and life still doesn't feel any different. My mum isn't here, my dad isn't here, my brother isn't here, my dog isn't here and neither is my cat. We don't have a Christmas tree in our lounge room. And I can't buy those I love presents cause I'm broke.

For the first time ever I hate this time of year.

I cancelled the layby with all our Christmas Presents on it yesterday.

My dog is still missing and we haven't heard anything for around a week now.

Belinda's Birthday is today and I have no money to buy her a present.