Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

This is hard to write.

Very hard.

I am trying so hard to cope.

Most of the time I even can trick myself into thinking things will be ok.

Then I hear their voices.

And my heart sinks.

I am back to any given  day of my life between age 6 and 15 and I would hear my father’s voice.

I – we, only had peace when he wasn’t home.

Most importantly, my mother was only safe when he wasn’t home.

The minute I’d hear his voice, I knew I had to brace myself for the worst because the worst often did happen.

Loud voices.

Swearing.

Screaming.

Awful insults.

Noises of things breaking.

My father traveled often so we had days in a row, sometimes even weeks where we could pretend life was normal, when we could sleep.

But I could never sleep when he was home. How could I?

I knew I had to be on the ready because at any time of day or night it could happen. Yet another trip to the hospital.

I didn’t happen every day, of course. But we never knew when we were going to get Dr. Jekyll and when we were going to get Mr. Hyde.

It was not a matter of if. It was a matter of when.

Upon hearing my father’s voice, all bets were off.

And it’s happening all over again.

I can’t sleep yet again.

I know that at any time of day or night I’ll hear their voices, my heart will sink and I will go back in time.

Like just now….

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones will break my bones But words will never harm me.

From Wikipedia:

“Sticks and Stones” is an English language children’s rhyme. It persuades the child victim of name-calling to ignore the taunt, to refrain from physical retaliation, and to remain calm and good-natured.

Sensible advice that, to remain calm and good-natured.

I have no problem with remaining calm.

But the truth is – as any person who’s ever been bullied can tell you, words can and do harm you.

Words can and do hurt you.

Words can and do cause you great pain.

Words can even lead you to suicide. Continue reading

Silent Scream

Had the worst nightmare ever. The viciousness of it is mind-blowing.

I was trapped in it for a long long time too.

I had to fight for what felt like hours just to wake up and that is not even what made it vicious. The horror of it is unspeakable and as such I can not, will not utter the words.

I now lie in bed.

I am tired and disoriented but I don’t dare close my eyes. I can feel I am not free of the clutches yet. The room is still moving and I still feel like I am floating.

The bedding was soaking wet when I woke up, of course. It is still damp and all that made my hips very cold so I am in more pain now but I don’t mind. Perhaps the pain will keep me anchored in the awake world.

I am still terrified, nonetheless.

Things I’d like to tell my brain

*WARNING: I’m pissed.  There will be a lot of swearing here. Consider yourself warned.

[In fact, I tell my brain all the time but the fucking bastard never listens]

  1. Yes, I know my whole childhood consisted of waking up to horrible screams, lots of blood and trips to the hospital
  2. Yes, my mother was murdered.  By my father.  Do you really think I would fucking forget something like that?
  3. Yes, seeing your mother’s blood covering the couch and the living room is an awful sight
  4. Yes, I know I am very traumatized by that
  5. No, seeing my father murdered (also shot in the head) years later didn’t help a bit

But! Must you fucking remind me every fucking night of my life?

Continue reading