Just wanted to ask, when the flasbacks come for you folks, how real are they?
It is hard to do this, to tell this, because it breaks me to pieces every time I think of it. It was a long time ago now.
when I was a small kid, I had 2 dogs, Lassie and Patchy. My insane folks locked them up in an old outhouse, toilet, and slowly starved and neglected them to death. They used to tear each other to pieces out of frustration. I couldn't do anything as I was so small and so stupid. Now, I am the opposite of them - I am in in my early, PTSD forced retirement, I now feed and love and care for many strays and wanderers of God's creatures. But I just can't get the pictures of my poor, starved, neglected dogs out of my mind. I wish I could go back and change it. So real sometimes I can almost reach out and touch their scars and their wounds with my hand. More real than my real life if that makes sense. My folks are gone now. God help me.
It is hard to do this, to tell this, because it breaks me to pieces every time I think of it. It was a long time ago now.
when I was a small kid, I had 2 dogs, Lassie and Patchy. My insane folks locked them up in an old outhouse, toilet, and slowly starved and neglected them to death. They used to tear each other to pieces out of frustration. I couldn't do anything as I was so small and so stupid. Now, I am the opposite of them - I am in in my early, PTSD forced retirement, I now feed and love and care for many strays and wanderers of God's creatures. But I just can't get the pictures of my poor, starved, neglected dogs out of my mind. I wish I could go back and change it. So real sometimes I can almost reach out and touch their scars and their wounds with my hand. More real than my real life if that makes sense. My folks are gone now. God help me.