Hard to believe that just one year ago, I didn't think I'd live to see fourteen candles on a cake. Didn't think I'd ever be able to keep a friend longer than a few weeks, and I certainly never thought that one person would determine whether I floated or fell. Words written on a simple document are enough to send me into a cascade of tears, one harder to pull out of than anything else. I never thought I'd start living on books, blades, and the non-consumption of food to survive and escape from life. Living in a small violet room surrounded by full bookcases and an odd assortment of things sitting in every possible area. I never figured that living to see a person three thousand miles away would be my one reason to keep living day in and day out..no matter what hell fate put me through. I never figured that a pencil, a piece of blank white paper, and a few gel pens would allow me to slip sideways into a world of creative imagination, where I was the master, and controled every little thing that was created. Never thinking that Wicca would take up such a large part in my life, or that someone smiling would make me laugh.

If I could manage to pluck every object from my memory that has contributed to creating this person I am now, I'd hold so many wonderous things in my hands. The worst possible things imaginable have helped to shape this dark haired girl sitting by her computer screen, leaning close to the thick glass to examine a picture. Molestation, dead-end relationships, heart-break, losing friends, suicide attempts, abuse stringing from one year to the next, and a large chunk of deaths helped to create who I am. Computer disks, candles, plants, animals, stories of heros long past, and minutes on a calling card have allowed me to survive. Somehow pulling a blade across my wrist in a frenzy and stopping to watch the blood bloom has kept me alive for the last year and a half. Being used as someone's puppet and used to accomplish something has helped to mold me into the perfect people pleaser...one that can't stand to disappoint anyone, no matter the reason. Watching people trip and fall over society has created me into a writer who hides in the shadows, secretly caring about what people say, but refusing to let them know it. Friends, journals, and time itself have contributed to my life in their own personal way...All these wonderous things keeping me from giving up.

A simple candle flame has shown me that even with the dullest item, a vivid future can be created. A puppy chasing after snowballs has taught me to appreciate those simple moments that give a person happiness and strength. Listening to the clock tick endlessly at four am has shown me that insomnia really is it's own prision, though sleep often offers no more comfort than four am insomnia. Dead pink carnations in a glass vase have shown me that nothing can live forever, no matter it's beauty, wisdom, or purpose. Pain has helped me to deal with everything that fate has thrown my way in the past, and will continue to help in the future. A voice whispering through a phone line thousands of miles away has given me a high like no other, one that no one can possibly understand without experience. Haunting melodies flowing from computer speakers have taught me to look beyond the sound and into the lyrics, where the passion and emotion lays secretly hidden. Bleak sunlight glinting off the virgin purity of fresh fallen snow has let me learn to appreciate beauty in simple things instead of searching endlessly for it. Staring up into the night sky on a brisk October night have allowed me to glimpse and understand that no matter how much humanity seems to be so important, we are just another string of delicate silk in the web of life.

It's hard to imagine that just a year ago, I thought none of this was possible. I didn't think I'd survive the heart-break, the taunting laughter of my peers, the glares of my mother, or the abuse from those around me. But I'm still here. Something somewhere has decided that I still have something to offer the world, no matter how much I want to die and evaporate. Changing my name numerous times hasn't changed the person inside, despite my attempt to become someone new and better. I'm still Tami Lyn Day, daughter of Darlene and Roy, Granddaughter of Jerry and Linda, Great-granddaughter of Phillis and Jack, and sister of Stephen. Whether I say I hate you, the stoner boy in the back row, the girl walking down the street in tattered clothes, or the screaming of a fight down the street, you have all shaped my world in one way or another. I never thought I'd be taught to say "I love you" or "I am important", but look at me now. I've survived over fourteen years of utter hell in it's own right, and I still continue you to make it through what seem to be the most impossible days.

All I want to say to all of you that have shaped my world and who I am, is thank you.