HomelessJoe
Bronze Member
I have compounded PTSD from multiple events in my life. First time when I was way to young. I was kidnapped and gang raped by some powerful people. Spent the rest of my life living in fear of them after that. Hunted them down later in life. Only to find out how power they are. When I tried to gather information on them. They took me to a torture facility that haunts me everyday all the damn time.
Its hard to say it but in a very small way Im lucky because I'm still alive. But most days I wish they just finished me off. My first day being tortured was straight out of a horror movie. A formally white room stained pink. Mirrors everywhere on the wall and ceiling. After a beating session they took my clothes and left me to sleep in a pool of someone's blood. I can't get the image of the meat.
They didn't clean up too well and forgot a part of the previous occupant. So that first night wasn't the worst of the torture but it was the worst of the torment. I can't forget my roommate. With mirrors everywhere and a light without a switch. It was either look the reflection of my bloody face or the chunk of meat in the corner of the room.
Every morning they would give me a drink of water and two slices of bread. Then off to torture sessions. First few days where beatings then they started getting creative. Phycological torture making me listen to them torture others or the sounds of them disposing of others. The TV show "Dexter" that sick bastard has morals. These f*cking guys are sick.
The daily torture sessions turned sexual. They started by masturbating while beating me. Then they started daily rape sessions. By the second week I had made friends with the chunk of meat. Used to talk to it everynight trying to focus on something else than the screams. Or people in other rooms. Still remains a seriously f*cked up though process. The screams all the time. Mine or someone else's.
The sounds of saws cutting up people haunts me but the screams where the worst. The first time I heard someone stop screaming I was worried they were killed. After a few weeks you learn to hope they're dead. By my fourth week I was begging them to kill me constantly. I would yell and bang on the door I wiped my shit on the walls to provoke them into killing me.
They eventually broke me. Water boarding is as scary as advertised. When you can't see, cant breathe and can't move. Your natural instinct when you feel like your drowning is to thrash about trying to swim. You want to just take a gulp of air but it won't come. You tense up cough gasp but you dont die. I broke I wanted to die at that point but I wanted to die. Not feel like I'm dying repeatedly for hours. I became grateful for that blood stained little room.
Became accused to the chunk of meat. I kept begging for them to kill me but they clearly never did since I'm not dead yet. After what I guess was brainwashing attempts. They made it very clear to me. To keep my mouth shut about what happened to me. I was released. But on a tight leash. They owner me from then on. They would come around and threaten me sometimes. But I got to return to my family so I kept quite.
All of this haunts me constantly. The past decade I've been constantly looking over my shoulder. I don't let anyone get too close to me. Not just physically but period. If they know me too well they know something is wrong with me. So I don't have any friends. Outside coworkers and checkout clerks I don't really talk to anyone.
It's a extremely lonely life when you can't let people get close to you. Something's people don't know how to hear. They don't want to hear it and when they do the look they give me. Like they are afraid of me. Most want justice then I have to break the illusion of safety. I can't explain to them that those who give justice are involved. They'll just take me again and I'll never see my family again.
So like a coward I've stayed as quite as I can bare. Protecting who they are all the while wishing I could just kill them. I can't stand to see people in pain. It just makes me cry. I don't think I would be able to kill them if I could kill them. I'm not the monster.
Anyways why I am here. The housing market going under years ago. Made me homeless. Ive been living nested to the dumpster behind my work for the past few years. The owner is good people let's me camp on the property just not in the building. Commercial property laws....
I'm just losing it lately. Ever since I became homeless I've tried to make sure I'm in full compliance with the law. For clear reasons. I don't want to be anywhere near the local authorities. So I check for new ordancies or bill and laws constantly.
The executive order Trump recently signed was some pretty f*cked up reading on its own. "Ending Crime And Disorder On American Streets". It honestly doesn't sound too bad by the title. It does mention disorderly conduct. But it's not like the title suggests. Crime is redefined within it. So is Disorder.
This new order makes new disorders and makes having a disorder a crime. Also loitering any case is now a crime. Being unable to take of of yourself is a crime. It says they plan to send us to a mental health facilities. But I'm not f*cking stupid
I know if they try and take me to a mental health facility. Then they will require answers about why I have PTSD. Who did this too me. My enemies know this too. Also is it even a mental health facility or is it a concentration camp. So again I'm living in fear. Is Trump sending me to a concentration camp and if so when are they coming for me today?, tomorrow is that car passing by then.... Or are THEY going to pick me up and kill me before Trump people get me. Are they the same people? Phones gonna die soon. I hope my story didn't disturbed anyone too much. I tried to be honest but leaving out what didn't need to be said. But just need to say it before I'm gone. Be safe out there everyone.
Its hard to say it but in a very small way Im lucky because I'm still alive. But most days I wish they just finished me off. My first day being tortured was straight out of a horror movie. A formally white room stained pink. Mirrors everywhere on the wall and ceiling. After a beating session they took my clothes and left me to sleep in a pool of someone's blood. I can't get the image of the meat.
They didn't clean up too well and forgot a part of the previous occupant. So that first night wasn't the worst of the torture but it was the worst of the torment. I can't forget my roommate. With mirrors everywhere and a light without a switch. It was either look the reflection of my bloody face or the chunk of meat in the corner of the room.
Every morning they would give me a drink of water and two slices of bread. Then off to torture sessions. First few days where beatings then they started getting creative. Phycological torture making me listen to them torture others or the sounds of them disposing of others. The TV show "Dexter" that sick bastard has morals. These f*cking guys are sick.
The daily torture sessions turned sexual. They started by masturbating while beating me. Then they started daily rape sessions. By the second week I had made friends with the chunk of meat. Used to talk to it everynight trying to focus on something else than the screams. Or people in other rooms. Still remains a seriously f*cked up though process. The screams all the time. Mine or someone else's.
The sounds of saws cutting up people haunts me but the screams where the worst. The first time I heard someone stop screaming I was worried they were killed. After a few weeks you learn to hope they're dead. By my fourth week I was begging them to kill me constantly. I would yell and bang on the door I wiped my shit on the walls to provoke them into killing me.
They eventually broke me. Water boarding is as scary as advertised. When you can't see, cant breathe and can't move. Your natural instinct when you feel like your drowning is to thrash about trying to swim. You want to just take a gulp of air but it won't come. You tense up cough gasp but you dont die. I broke I wanted to die at that point but I wanted to die. Not feel like I'm dying repeatedly for hours. I became grateful for that blood stained little room.
Became accused to the chunk of meat. I kept begging for them to kill me but they clearly never did since I'm not dead yet. After what I guess was brainwashing attempts. They made it very clear to me. To keep my mouth shut about what happened to me. I was released. But on a tight leash. They owner me from then on. They would come around and threaten me sometimes. But I got to return to my family so I kept quite.
All of this haunts me constantly. The past decade I've been constantly looking over my shoulder. I don't let anyone get too close to me. Not just physically but period. If they know me too well they know something is wrong with me. So I don't have any friends. Outside coworkers and checkout clerks I don't really talk to anyone.
It's a extremely lonely life when you can't let people get close to you. Something's people don't know how to hear. They don't want to hear it and when they do the look they give me. Like they are afraid of me. Most want justice then I have to break the illusion of safety. I can't explain to them that those who give justice are involved. They'll just take me again and I'll never see my family again.
So like a coward I've stayed as quite as I can bare. Protecting who they are all the while wishing I could just kill them. I can't stand to see people in pain. It just makes me cry. I don't think I would be able to kill them if I could kill them. I'm not the monster.
Anyways why I am here. The housing market going under years ago. Made me homeless. Ive been living nested to the dumpster behind my work for the past few years. The owner is good people let's me camp on the property just not in the building. Commercial property laws....
I'm just losing it lately. Ever since I became homeless I've tried to make sure I'm in full compliance with the law. For clear reasons. I don't want to be anywhere near the local authorities. So I check for new ordancies or bill and laws constantly.
The executive order Trump recently signed was some pretty f*cked up reading on its own. "Ending Crime And Disorder On American Streets". It honestly doesn't sound too bad by the title. It does mention disorderly conduct. But it's not like the title suggests. Crime is redefined within it. So is Disorder.
This new order makes new disorders and makes having a disorder a crime. Also loitering any case is now a crime. Being unable to take of of yourself is a crime. It says they plan to send us to a mental health facilities. But I'm not f*cking stupid
I know if they try and take me to a mental health facility. Then they will require answers about why I have PTSD. Who did this too me. My enemies know this too. Also is it even a mental health facility or is it a concentration camp. So again I'm living in fear. Is Trump sending me to a concentration camp and if so when are they coming for me today?, tomorrow is that car passing by then.... Or are THEY going to pick me up and kill me before Trump people get me. Are they the same people? Phones gonna die soon. I hope my story didn't disturbed anyone too much. I tried to be honest but leaving out what didn't need to be said. But just need to say it before I'm gone. Be safe out there everyone.
