I was caught off guard, and the only way I knew to keep my bearings was to talk back.
The first half of 1943 brought crying spells, loneliness
and the gradual realization of my faults and shortcomings, which were numerous and seemed even more so.
I filled the day with chatter, tried to draw Pim closer to me and failed.
This left me on my own to face the difficult task of improving myself
so I wouldn’t have to hear their reproaches, because they made me so despondent.
The second half of the year was slightly better. I became a teenager, and was treated more like a grown-up.
I began to think about things and to write stories, finally coming to the conclusion that the others no longer had anything to do with me.
They had no right to swing me back and forth like a pendulum on a clock.
I wanted to change myself in my own way. I realized I could manage without my mother, completely and totally, and that hurt.
But what affected me even more was the realization that I was never going to be able to confide in Father. I didn’t trust anyone but myself.
After New Year’s the second big change occurred: my dream,
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