I can't escape the chaos. It is the only constant remaining in my life. The unthinkable, the plague of pain and problems. Forced to rent out my home due to the constant barrage, the plumbers that show up refuse to leave after raising the price $600, escalating to threatening me with " I know where you live.".
Really? Plumbers?
I arrive at my new "home" to find that my fragile health is plummeting due to the soot that is everywhere. As I pack to leave, with nowhere really to go, somehow my beloved cat escapes. It has been a month since snow fell but once my kitty is outdoors the snow hasn't stopped.
"I killed my cat, I killed my cat, I killed my cat." These words bounce through my head like a childhood rhyme. I am brought back to relentless thoughts of suicide. I simply cannot stop the spiral and the spiral has taken the very essence of my soul.
Deal with the trauma and the trauma will stop, my friend mentions.
The trauma? The trauma. Which one is THE trauma? My mother's leaving me home alone to babysit myself at 5, the warfare between my mom and dad, my step brother bunking down with me naked at 20 when I was 6, my step father's fondling and nightly kisses jamming his tongue down my throat for a decade, my brothers beating me daily while we were unattended at home, my step father's psychotic breaks and paranoid conspiracy theories, my step father beating my mother while calling her a slut, the night my mother had me pack my bags and we drove away leaving my brothers behind, the verbal assaults by my mothers jealous rage whenever my step father and I had fun, at 15 being date raped by my "boyfriend" of 20 that was escaped from jail and my parents invited to move into my bedroom, running from the fbi for the crimes of the same boyfriend.
The drama of my younger years goes on and on, not so dissimilar from a movie. But I tucked all this away and carried on with the optimism that I could overcome. But I couldn't overcome, although I functioned fairly well until.....
My husband of 6 months cheated and verbally assaulted me daily, I became ill with Giardia and wasted away physically, mentally and emotionally. Weakened I became a target for anything and everything, including rape and sexual assaults. I certainly left the world as I knew it then, but it wasn't the incidents alone. It was the typical victim storm, blaming me, throwing me under the bus, turning it all against me. And for what? So they can have a pretty picture and a peaceful evening.
A friend I called immediately when encountered in my hallway with a man yielding a knife.... The next day explained that he figured it was just a possum in my backyard and I was over-reacting. A possum? I had never before or ever since claimed a man with a knife was in my hallway, so why would I so easily be dismissed by the 6 men I called?
This was the first of 3 sexual assaults, progressively worsening. But somehow I am at fault. Over-reacting, exaggerating, holding grudges. One of the grudges was a 45k bill for surgery to repair the damage from the assault by my gyn.
The voices in my head while certainly melodic about the bastards that tore me apart, the baritone is the voice singing my ineptitude, my slippery grip on reality, inability to move on.
"I killed my cat, I killed my cat, I killed my cat."
Really? Plumbers?
I arrive at my new "home" to find that my fragile health is plummeting due to the soot that is everywhere. As I pack to leave, with nowhere really to go, somehow my beloved cat escapes. It has been a month since snow fell but once my kitty is outdoors the snow hasn't stopped.
"I killed my cat, I killed my cat, I killed my cat." These words bounce through my head like a childhood rhyme. I am brought back to relentless thoughts of suicide. I simply cannot stop the spiral and the spiral has taken the very essence of my soul.
Deal with the trauma and the trauma will stop, my friend mentions.
The trauma? The trauma. Which one is THE trauma? My mother's leaving me home alone to babysit myself at 5, the warfare between my mom and dad, my step brother bunking down with me naked at 20 when I was 6, my step father's fondling and nightly kisses jamming his tongue down my throat for a decade, my brothers beating me daily while we were unattended at home, my step father's psychotic breaks and paranoid conspiracy theories, my step father beating my mother while calling her a slut, the night my mother had me pack my bags and we drove away leaving my brothers behind, the verbal assaults by my mothers jealous rage whenever my step father and I had fun, at 15 being date raped by my "boyfriend" of 20 that was escaped from jail and my parents invited to move into my bedroom, running from the fbi for the crimes of the same boyfriend.
The drama of my younger years goes on and on, not so dissimilar from a movie. But I tucked all this away and carried on with the optimism that I could overcome. But I couldn't overcome, although I functioned fairly well until.....
My husband of 6 months cheated and verbally assaulted me daily, I became ill with Giardia and wasted away physically, mentally and emotionally. Weakened I became a target for anything and everything, including rape and sexual assaults. I certainly left the world as I knew it then, but it wasn't the incidents alone. It was the typical victim storm, blaming me, throwing me under the bus, turning it all against me. And for what? So they can have a pretty picture and a peaceful evening.
A friend I called immediately when encountered in my hallway with a man yielding a knife.... The next day explained that he figured it was just a possum in my backyard and I was over-reacting. A possum? I had never before or ever since claimed a man with a knife was in my hallway, so why would I so easily be dismissed by the 6 men I called?
This was the first of 3 sexual assaults, progressively worsening. But somehow I am at fault. Over-reacting, exaggerating, holding grudges. One of the grudges was a 45k bill for surgery to repair the damage from the assault by my gyn.
The voices in my head while certainly melodic about the bastards that tore me apart, the baritone is the voice singing my ineptitude, my slippery grip on reality, inability to move on.
"I killed my cat, I killed my cat, I killed my cat."
