I had a nightmare last night. The kind that makes me yell. The kind Ive got my husband trained to wake me out of. It’s been a while. There have been a few years where sleep just has not been safe. There is something lurking in my darkness and that’s what makes me scream.
I was abused as a 3 year old. I’ve been traumatized while I was young enough to build that into my identity. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have a book on it and the funny thing is, I match up with almost everything in the first chapter and I can’t bring myself to read the book…..and the book even tells me that too.
My Father got PTSD from Vietnam. I got PTSD from him. Both he and my grandfather helped mold me into the woman I am today. So now I have to worry about eyes looking back at me from dark places. What creeps me out is that those eyes won’t just stay there. They will come closer and closer to safe places as the nightmares escalate till there is a man in shadow leaning over me while I’m in my bed.
I hate feeling stalked and helpless and I hate that I’m going through this at 39 because of being tormented at 3. I hate so much about all of this. But hate doesn’t help.
Whether it’s because I was born this way or because I was made this way I have trouble letting anything go. My life is like a vice grip. I grab words and looks and keep them. I keep everything. I no longer want to. I want to be free. I want have people say things and look at me and be pleasantly detached. Enjoy the moment. I don’t know how many years I have left but when I die I want to have been free.
I think that I need to stop hating my father and my grandfather for what they did to me. I need to stop hating in general. I need to just let what they did amount to the same as falling off my bike when I was 12 and scarring up my knee. The scar has become a part of my body but I have no emotion over the incident. It happened. Its over.
I have a scar on my hand where I opened a can of spam wrong and the key uncoiled and whipped at me. I have one where I broke a glass tube into my hand in chemistry class in high school…and when I was three I have scars where my father and then later my Grandfather abused me….
Do I need to forgive them? Probably. I want to be free.
“Eyes in the darkness.” Everyone has darkness. Everyone makes their own darkness. Those are MY EYES. I made them. I am the one looking back at me. Ive been the one hurting me and I am going to stop…somehow I’m going to figure this out and stop hurting myself.
I want to be free.
I was abused as a 3 year old. I’ve been traumatized while I was young enough to build that into my identity. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I have a book on it and the funny thing is, I match up with almost everything in the first chapter and I can’t bring myself to read the book…..and the book even tells me that too.
My Father got PTSD from Vietnam. I got PTSD from him. Both he and my grandfather helped mold me into the woman I am today. So now I have to worry about eyes looking back at me from dark places. What creeps me out is that those eyes won’t just stay there. They will come closer and closer to safe places as the nightmares escalate till there is a man in shadow leaning over me while I’m in my bed.
I hate feeling stalked and helpless and I hate that I’m going through this at 39 because of being tormented at 3. I hate so much about all of this. But hate doesn’t help.
Whether it’s because I was born this way or because I was made this way I have trouble letting anything go. My life is like a vice grip. I grab words and looks and keep them. I keep everything. I no longer want to. I want to be free. I want have people say things and look at me and be pleasantly detached. Enjoy the moment. I don’t know how many years I have left but when I die I want to have been free.
I think that I need to stop hating my father and my grandfather for what they did to me. I need to stop hating in general. I need to just let what they did amount to the same as falling off my bike when I was 12 and scarring up my knee. The scar has become a part of my body but I have no emotion over the incident. It happened. Its over.
I have a scar on my hand where I opened a can of spam wrong and the key uncoiled and whipped at me. I have one where I broke a glass tube into my hand in chemistry class in high school…and when I was three I have scars where my father and then later my Grandfather abused me….
Do I need to forgive them? Probably. I want to be free.
“Eyes in the darkness.” Everyone has darkness. Everyone makes their own darkness. Those are MY EYES. I made them. I am the one looking back at me. Ive been the one hurting me and I am going to stop…somehow I’m going to figure this out and stop hurting myself.
I want to be free.
