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R. Burrow

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Julie's Madness
By R. Burrow
Sunday, June 05, 2011

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Sad, Mad Julie

Julie grew up in a hostile environment.  Her brother and sisters, mother and father, were all sadistic killers.  Attempts at bodily harm were occasional but few; it had long ago escalated to the point where everyone daily, routinely, went right for the jugular, the psychological-emotional jugular - and many times Julie was hurt to the point where it became so INTOLERABLE that her mind dissociated - changed into something, somewhere else - the only escape, it seemed, from the excruciating here and now.    
     She had dissociated ever since then; throughout her teenage years and young adulthood.  Her mind learned somehow to hypnotise itself, and she'd have amnesia about many acts, speeches, and events she didn't recall.  Her mind was supposed to be fixed at age 14, but it soon became too late - other matters arrived and overtook priority, leaving it on the back burner forever - if it was even known, or remembered by anyone, professionals, anywhere.  Blood ran like tears.  She had hurt her brother and sisters and her parents, too.  It had been an all-out war. 
     As an adult, she felt she was the one most scarred, because her siblings hated her, scorned her, ignored her, scapegoated her, and were callous and unsympathetic kids at that time; they had their own deliquent, fun lives, while she was the most sensitive and vulnerable person in the family; therefore the easiest to hurt, to blame.  She'd been sent away, incarcerated; the only one in her family put in a cage.  This was only more proof to the family that the problems lay with her - the mentally ill middle sister.
     The youngest brother didn't speak to her for eight years.  "You took Mom's attention away from all of us," he accused.  The so-called
"love" Julie received from her mother was the devotion a potentially-dangerous "burden" receives.  Her mom's love was a double-edged sword.  To Jill, it was duty - unwanted - often carried out in hurtful, accusatory, disguised ways; her mom pretended that it was pure benevolence, the epitome of motherly love; her daugher meant so damn much to her - to the world looking in.  Her mom even admitted the bullshit.  THE LIE.  Why didn't she just put me in an orphanage, Julie wondered. 
     Everyone felt sorry for Julie's mother.  Everyone wanted to protect her from Julie.  Nothing made Julie feel worse than when others acted as if her mom needed to be protected from the MONSTER.  Julie didn't persecute her mother.  She didn't hurt her.  Julie loved her mom.  Julie hated her mom.  But loved her more, and demanded her attention frequently.  But Julie would never harm her, not willfully or maliciously. 
     Julie wanted to kill all those people who treated her as if she was a brainless thug, a malicious, evil, mother-hating demon - A MONSTER, A JERK, AN *SSH*LE,
She was SO SENSITIVE about this matter, her skin was thin as paper when it came to this...

     Susan was a daughter to Julie.  Beautiful, golden, golden-brown, with small amounts of black, beige, and tan, white shiny teeth, and an unmatched disposition.  She loved and trusted everyone.  She was always relaxed, because all people were her friends; it was unthinkable that anyone might be capable of meanness towards her; she was like an affectionate cat, rubbing her head against the limbs or face of anyone who pet her or gave her attention.  She loved people.
     Julie loved HER.  She devoted her life to this toddler, who needed one surgery after another, and it tore her heart apart to see her only daughter go through so much hell, pain, and misery.  Horror after inexplicable horror.  Arthritis in her paws, painful hip dysplasia; a hip that became dislocated every so often and was so painful she require Morpine.  Pain control.  Vets in the past suggested a hip replacement to control pain.  Then there was the spleen removal = benign tumors.  Amazing! - haha.  The grim reaper turned around and left that day.  Julie was happy; her daughter cheated Death.  She couldn't have tolerated the alternative - a malignant growth that would kill her lovely daughter.  She had asked God to please take her instead, kill her instead, and was glad that perhaps he finally granted a request. 
     Then the greedy vets removed fatty cysts from under her front leg - a potential hazard in the future, small cysts on her eyelids - when would it end?  Susie escaped death once, but she wouldn't the next time. 
     Bone cancer.  The specialist in Rochester suggested amputation combined with harsh chemo, followed by bloodwork and an echocardiogram to make sure her body could take the chemotherapy - and all of this would only give her a 50% chance of another year; two at best.  It would leave her with three bad legs to walk on instead of four.  And that was if nothing else - no other illness should strike her - which was a definite possibility, Julie knew.  She believed that's just what the gods - the powers that be - would have done - it was just like their brand of evil, their sick sense of poisoning mortals, their knowledge of the best ways to hurt Julie's spirit, soul, and mind.
     She recalled the one-hour trip back and forth to the Vet Specialist.  It rained torrentially all the way there.  There was no break in the rain.  Julie knew that she OWNED this rainstorm; all these tears were HERS.  The rain was for HER.  And her precious SUSAN. 
     When Susie was finally laid to rest, it was raining, and Julie drove her car all day with the windows open, turned all the way down.  She became soaking wet, and was glad.  She needed her tears, they were the only thing simple enough to understand.  Sorrow.  Undying sadness.
     The rich in Julie's family would not give her the $6,000.  She wanted to buy Susie another chance.  She decided, "Let the illness run its course, give her everything she's not allowed to have, everything she'd love, take her for long walks every night to keep her leg strong, buy her Calcium pills from the Vet catalog and give them to her daily, along with Advil for pain..."  She did all of this faithfully.  It seemed the tumor was held in check.  Then suddenly, the bony growth began to grow larger.  Once started, it began increasing in size faster and faster. 
     She'd never forget the day she left the vet's office.  "Just one last kiss," her husband at the time said to Susie.  Julie had wanted to give Susan two more weeks.
     Susie leaned all her body weight against Julie, not wanting her to leave.  She'd suffered many horrors in that vet's office, the amnesia she experienced after anesthesia, which confused her, the shaved dog-hair on her legs and paw, bandages from a cut or where the IV was stuck, her shaved stomach when her spleen was removed -
a night in the vetrinary hospital when she was so lethargic Julie was sick from worry. 
     "My baby," Julie cried and cried; she was not in control of her faculties.  She didn't want to leave, but tears were streaming down her face uncontrollably, and all that halted them temporarily was to ask the vet a question or two.  "You take the pain now, instead of her," he said again.  She was too full of sorrow to be embarrassed.  Tears poured from her eyes ten at at time, and rolled down all over her face, hardly missing a spot.  Julie had been taking the pain for a long time.  "My baby needs to rest in peace this time."  Julie understood this, but it was a tough loss to take - the loss of the daughter she loved with all the love in a person's heart; pure, selfless love.  "I love this dog," she recalled telling her mom over and over again.  The statement was unable to fully express her emotions.  The love.
     "Crazy Ann" bought Julie an appointment with a psychic - something Julie would never have
believed in, but she humored her sister, and the hour was already paid for, anyway.  "Contact Susie, Julie insisted.  "My dog!"  She meant it.
     After a long pause, and receiving affirmation that yes, this is about a dog, the psychic said, "Susie did regain her consciousness.  She looks down and checks in on you every once in a while, but she's gone on to a new and different life of her own."  Tears were pressing against the back of Julie's eyeballs; she felt the pressure and fought to hold them back.  "Susie learned a lot about "how
to love" from you, the Psychic continued.  Julie believed this.  She believed Susie learned a lot about love and loving from her master.
     Julie had loved intensely.  She often did things deeply and intensely, using all her resources, concentration, and focus.  There was brain power left in her messed-up mind.  That's the kind of person she was, though she'd lost so much of her brainpower, skills, talents, and abilities.  It was a shame.  She had tried to destroy her brain as a young delinquent, alcoholic, drug user, promiscuous young girl, running around taking long car trips, using drugs, blasting loud music to destroy her mind...  Many people did at that time.  The effects were permanent.
     She was a cheerful, superficial joker on the outside, but serious, strong, and instense on the inside.  She was brave, her endurance was great; her love was still strong.
     When Julie had a baby at age 35, not long after Susie died, she realized, perhaps having all these pets - dogs, rabbits, gerbils - were a substitute for the needs of her maternal hormones, the maternal personality that she'd ignored for the most part, but expressed by taking care of animals.
     Julie could never risk losing something so precious again.  Escaping sorrow and loss is impossible.  It's like a 99 degree temperature with no air conditioner and nowhere to go.  Inescapable.  Like an illness that doesn't go away.  It just gets worse and worse until you die.  Was Julie still capable of love.  WAS SHE?
     Months and months lying on the couch crying,
a new dog at her feet, she finally felt okay again.  Her layoff from work ended at just the right time.  She went back to work.  Her supervisor - who took a particular liking to Julie - also had an older dog who had died, and had a child just before Julie did - both in their thirties.
     Julie hated God.  He hated her, she knew.  And it was a simple way to put it.  While she strolled through hell and high water, scumbags and evildoers like the Bush's - people who have made evil a virtual science (it's the only thing that family is good at)!  They enjoy all the money and power the world has to offer. 
     And Julie has to struggle to keep her head above water.  A moron and racist like Reagan lives a charmed life.  What made him deserve it, and not Julie?  Why did he get jewels and she got dog shit? 
     Shit happens.  Those are the breaks.  That's the hand you were dealt.  That's the way the cookie crumbles. 
     "Sensible!  I'm sorry but that's not me!" she complained.  "I love her and I want to grab her by the head, and hold it tight in my arms until she's reassured...  Crazy, smart...not sensible!"   AAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH
     "And am I incapable of love?"  The suggestion that Julie had no heart, could not love, could not genuinely love another human being, with all the pure love she kept waiting in her heart, waiting for the right person who would be honest with her and love her back, and also be physically attractive - that was all she needed to unleash her overflowing heartful; the pure idea that Julie was INCAPABLE was what led to her impulsive, temper-loss, and pushed her to write those mean, hurtful words that she wrote.  She had overreacted and was sorry.  She didn't want to lost the friend she valued most.
     "I AM SORRY" Julie screamed.  But it wasn't loud enough for Miss J. to hear.
     She'd do her utmost to never let it happen again, to learn from her mistakes, and be sweet, loving, nice, AND SO SO SORRY.  She didn't want to hurt her BIG SISTER.  Julie loves MISS LOVABLE, AND HAS FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS, UNREQUITED THOUGH IT MIGHT BE.  FRIENDS IS ENOUGH.  But Julie wanted to take her head, hold it tightly in both arms and reassure her friend that it's ok - she didn't mean the hurtful things she said, and will never say anything similar again.  She'd hold her head for an hour.
     That person, that beautiful girl, in mind, heart, body, and spirit, who possesses that ticklingly cute crooked smile that also made Julie smile, and the sexy, quick wink that meant so much, a wink that answered questions, solved problems, could convey almost anything.  Julie didn't know how to wink well enough to do it.  Just seeing her was special. 
     At 37, Miss J. still had all her idealism intact, and a warm heart that couldn't have been in a more perfect place.  She validated
life, all life, every being, every creature intrinsic to the planet.  She believed in winning battles with no one getting crushed.  She won wars all the time - those that were easily won - those that were obviously good, and right, and few would disagree with their righteousness. 
     Julie had long ago given up on saving a world that didn't want to be saved. 
     She had a seventy year old heart and a teenager's muscular body.  Her face - anywhere between twenty and thirty, she guessed, since people often mistook her for a twenty year old.  Mid to late twenties, usually, which at age 40, was quite flattering. 
     But that damn premature graying!  She was obsessing about it lately, her hair. 
     The love of her life was young, and knew hair, makeup, and clothing - and though these might be considered superficial things, it's a skill, a talent, a noteworthy ability that will only benefit the her, or the person with the know-how to do these things expertly.
     Julie would give anything to "own" her, but didn't think she had a chance - not with all the friends, admirers, boyfriends, girlfriends, and other lovers standing in line.
     She'd accept friendship.  Julie had too much pride to stand in line. 
     Julie would love her any way she could.  You can love your friends.  You can hug and kiss your friends.  You can show affection.  Julie believed Miss J. was afraid of a sex attack haha. 
     Julie was extremely horny but was able to exercise self-control.  She wouldn't jump on a body and start having sex with him or her. 
     She was smart - maybe this was something she had to offer - intelligence, knowledge - Julie was always a little smarter than the next person.  But sensible?  NO.  ONLY COWARDS ARE SENSIBLE.  Julie was brave.  When asked what good quality she possessed, about a month ago, the word that first came to mind was: brave.  "Yes, I think I'm brave," she said.  The brave are not sensible.
     As for intelligence, we all know that everyone - almost everyone - has undying faith in the existence of his/her own genuis.  Someone once said to Julie, and she considered this great wisdom: "Don't put yourself on a pedastal.  Let someone else put you there."  As far as Julie knew, she'd never been put there.
     But I put Miss J. there.  Julie loves Miss J. and made a mistake.  "Please forgive me, Miss J.," Julie said.  "Don't hate me.  Don't give me unemotional, unfriendly looks anymore.  Don't ignore me.  SAY HI, and WINK when it's appropritate.  I'm so sorry.  But the game has to end.  Know I love you."
     "AND GIVE ME YOUR HEAD TO HOLD.  I'LL HOLD IT UNTIL YOU CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE.  I WANT TO HOLD YOUR HEAD UNTIL YOU'RE SECURE.  I'll always speak softly, and I'll never lie to you, even when the truth might not be pleasant.  I'll be your ally in all ways.  I'll protect you.  I'll give you whatever you want, within my power.  I'll love you genuinely, and unequivocally."
     "We hate each other because we love each other."  There was always an answer.  Could Julie be trapped within her madness?  She wished her dream would tap her on the shoulder, awaken her, and she'd find it a reality. 
     She wanted it to be real so badly, it frustrated her and made her crazy, ..."AND MISS J., YOU'RE A PARTY TO IT AND KNOW ALL ABOUT IT."
!" she cried.  "Let me show you!!!"  I CAN LOVE.  ejhrowehiohioj;  I do LOVE.  I LOVEWTIYY TIYIY IYYIOU ;iheoirhoieho;irh;oihewaio;;
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 Jill & Gina


       Web Site: R. Burrow

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Reviewed by Donna Chandler 6/6/2011
Could Julie be trapped within her madness? Yes, this is truly a story filled with madness. How incredibly sad and heart-wrenching.


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