A Stolen Life_ A Memoir - Jaycee Dugard [53]
AUGUST 21, 2003
Life moves so fast. It has been a while since I last wrote and I feel different and the same. Sometimes all I can think about is the way I look. I feel ugly because I’m fat and my face is so awful, full of pimples. I try so hard to … to what? Why do I care what I look like? My family loves me just the way I am, they are the only ones who see me, so what do I care? But I want to be pretty, not gorgeous, just pretty. I want a healthy body and flawless skin. Am I vain? It makes me depressed the way I look now. I hate mirrors, but I also want a mirror to see myself. To see if all the exercising I am doing with Nancy is paying off. Why is it important to me? I tell myself that I am going to have to face the way I look because why dwell on it when I’m doing all I can to better myself, what more can I ask of myself. I hate feeling down. I want to be happy.
SEPTEMBER 2, 2003
I don’t understand why I’m not happy. I am happy … I mean I should be happy. I have a lot more than other people do. I just feel angry that I will never see my friend again [Jessie] or my real family. I guess in a way I never really knew them; I really didn’t even know her [my mom], maybe that’s what’s eating at me … I’m afraid I’ll never really get the chance to know her [my mom]. What if something happens to her [my mom]. Life is so uncontrollable. It just continues and we just ride the wave it creates. Sometimes I want to lead my own life. But why? It would be in my best interest to stay and go with this flow. I read stories of adventure and true love and, yes, I want it, everyone wants that—look at all the books written about those subjects! I want to find it, but I don’t think it really truly exists or ever happens. It’s just dreams people have and wish for to make life more worthwhile in this dangerous would we live in. Something to keep their hearts from shattering. I don’t think it really happens, though, I have never seen it. I don’t think I will find it either. I will live my days alone because I will not settle for anything less than true feelings.
OCTOBER 12, 2003
I guess I have turned a switch off inside of me. In the beginning I did it to survive. Now it’s just habit, I suppose, but nonetheless it is now a part of who I am. I feel it switch when I watch TV or I’m out somewhere. When I’m out in public I want nothing more than to be invisible. To blend in and not get noticed. That’s when I feel the switch turn on and me sink into the background. I don’t look at people or really see them either. I feel like if I notice them, they will notice me. I want to have a normal life and be like normal people, but I can’t, the switch always turns on. I’m also afraid if I see people, I’m afraid of what I would see. It’s not that I don’t care, I care! I care more than I want to. I just can’t stand crying over any of it anymore maybe because I’ve done enough crying for two lifetimes. I can’t say, though, that people don’t affect me; I would be lying to myself. I want to change the world, make it a better place to live. A place where I want the kids to live in.
NOVEMBER 8, 2003
[Journal entry about a kitten that I named Precious that I found outside, but she was very sick and ended up dying.]
Oh God, I feel awful. I hurt so badly. Why do I feel this way? I only knew her for a short time. I think this is the first time someone I loved has died. I know I’ve lost many people in my life that I have loved even more, but this is the first one that has died in my arms. I know people would think I’m crazy for crying over her because she was just an animal. Sometimes I feel more connected with them than I could ever feel for a human being. Is that weird? I will never forget her [Precious]. How could she