Tag Archives: PTSD

Flashback

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3…..2…..1….. 

 

heart races

stomach drops

blood runs cold

it’s happening again!

eyes shut tight

paralyzed with terror.

please not here, not now.

 

I’m teetering

400 miles up

on this tight rope

I’m walking.

no one

can hear me scream

but me. 

 

1…..2…..3……

 

don’t say a word

just breathe

in and out.

act normally

open your eyes

touch the ground

it’s not happening.

 

Ghosts look so very real.

Hard to discern

no imminent harm

in pursuit of me.

After all these years,

they still besiege me,

unexpextedly.

 

 


#metoo

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#Icallbullshit

It has sickened me to watch the news over some recent months to see all these women coming out of the woodwork like cockroaches with claims of sexual assault from prominent or celebrity men with big wallets.

This one claims he touched her breast in an airplane in 1970.   Another has a vague recollection of getting groped at an audition.   Still another says that she woke up with her panties missing after a night of drinking.

Hell, missing panties after a night of drinking? that would describe myself and at least 3-5% of my friends.   Saying that someone touched their breast has somehow made them feel violated.  Violated, is a very strong word.  That this event changed them.  Are you serious?  I’m sorry but in the words of Peggy Hubbard, “you’re all acting like a bitch baby pussies.”

The one thing many of these women all have in common? They are seeking monetary compensation, public humiliation, and slander.  That really bothers me.  Just because a man has money, they feel entitled to go after it?Nothing is really slander if it’s told through the lens of a teary interview on a TV show because it’s just is an allegation.   But after all is said and done, even if the man is vindicated and found not guilty, who remembers that?   Everyone remembers the teary painful recount of the tall tale told on said TV show.   No one can unring the bell, hence the humiliation for the man.

Everyone knows that if it was Mike the Mechanic from around the block, this gold digging venture wouldn’t be happening.   Mike who coaches soccer and stays for last call at the local watering hole isn’t going to have 7 women going after his house, his 401K, his Mercedes, and his Prudential mutual funds.  It would be women out trying to seek actual justice with jail time, not their 5 minutes of fame on Dateline and an undisclosed amount of currency.  

One allegation from which many of the #metoo claims stemmed, is that a roofie was placed in her drink and he slid his  “Jello-pudding pop” where it didn’t belong.  I think this is total bullshit too.  It  lead to throngs of others banding together in estrogen to shake him down for some loot in a civil trial.

As a trauma survivor of repeated child sexual assault,  I think it’s a load of bullshit.  The sheer numbers of these women coming forward and how they stacked up as fast as dominos falling,  doesn’t lend any credence to their allegations.  Rather, it is suggestive to me of women trying to get a piece of the proverbial payout pie to be potentially had; of any possible future settlement.

Do I believe it’s possible there could be real victims? Absolutely!!! However, the #metoo media frenzy left a bad taste in my mouth that felt more like a modern day Salem Witch Hunt than any sort of  legitimate investigation.   Where men in positions of power and/or wealth were targeted.

Perhaps instead of seeking a cash cow, these women can seek some evidenced based trauma work for their PTSD they allegedly suffer with.  Money won’t ever repair shattered self-esteems,  substance abuse riddled lives, and repairing the barriers to intimacy that the trauma has caused.  Real victims after all deserve real compassion and treatment.

No ones body should EVER be violated.

and

Everyone should remain innocent until proven guilty.        


The return of “S”

Yes.

Can you believe he returned out of the abyss of how many months having passed…..November?

Sending me an email asking how I am doing.

I don’t know why I am shocked, but I am.

Attached with said email was a beautiful song:it was quite beautiful actually.

I think I should dub him the “disappearing man.”

He spoke of existential angst over spending most of his life alone and fear of his mortality.

I wrote back and let him know that his disappearing act and inability to deal with fallout

from discord from his disappearances is a good bet why his has spent most of his life alone.

surprise surprise, he didn’t write back.

*****

On another note “B” left.

After promising not to leave.

After promising not to yell.

After promising he would “never do anything to hurt me.”

Too many promises broken in such a short amount of time should have been a giant red flag right there.

Too many promises broken period.

He told me when he met me, “my word is my bond.”

Then when he has repeatedly broke his word he said, “yes I did, but you had antagonized me and pissed me off.”

apparently for some,  it only turns out that people only keep their word under certain emotional conditions.

wish I was aware of that little caveat

*****

I don’t know who is worse, me for telling my life story in the first five minutes to a man who doesn’t deserve the trust.

or this man who tells me he loves me and won’t hurt me in the first five minutes after hearing it.

*****

But let’s not thump on poor B shall we.  I am no prize package.  I am insecure, clingy, hide my low self-self esteem behind a well practiced false bravado.   My moods swing like a monkey on a chandelier when I don’t get enough sleep.     I should probably just join a monastic sect somewhere, and live Lord of the Flies style, free of the trappings of society with my dildo.

****

the problem is, the trees don’t hug you back on the island……


Litte Red Riding Whore

It’s been nearly 3 months since he dumped me. ….so into to him I couldn’t walk away no matter what a piece of shit he was.   Cheatings, beatings, lies……..  For 3 and a half years he cheated on me with various prostitutes, couples, Craigslist hookups, and a gangbangs, and as I just recently found out few men too.  None of this was known to me til the last year.  But I thought I could “fix” him.  I really thought if I just loved him enough, he would stop.  He dumped me; a faithful, monogamous woman……to go out with and fuck all them

My heart is still broken.

Last night I finally decided to have a drink with an acquaintance I have spoken with for a year by phone, we shall call him S.

He lives a few towns away.  We click on many levels, but he realized that I was entrenched, knee-deep in shit with my ex and he was busy was pursuing a married woman who was “seperated”.   So although there has been perhaps some interest romantically on both ends, the point was moot.  It has remained utterly platonic and we have never met face to face, that is until last night.

We scheduled to meet at a local pub up the street when he got out of work.

I met S at said establishment at around 11:45.  I was a bit late because I had just received a voicemail on my home phone last night around 11:30 pm from my ex.

I had seen his name come up on called ID and did not pick up.  Who knows why the fuck he calls me, he doesn’t want me anymore.  Oh that’s right he’s a sadist, he enjoys seeing me cry and rubbing my face in pain.   Foolishly, I did check the message and what I heard made me have the dry heaves.

It was not the voice of my ex it was the voice of another man,

Thanks for loaning you ex-boyfriend **** out for the night he fucked my wife real good tonight,  she really enjoyed that big cock, I didn’t realise he was into bondage he really whipped her ass real good.”   Then from out of the background the wife says “oooo I loved it……ohhhh yeah…..he fucked me really good….. oh he fucked me better than ever ……he did things I’ve never even felt before…thank you very much.”    Then my qualifier comes on the phone and says, “these folks are going home now, and now I’m going home.  Have a good night.”

So 5 minutes before I have to go and meet my new friend and our first possible “date” I am choking back dry-heaves and tears.  I am in the bathroom fanning out my eyes and re-applying make-up.   I get to the Pub and meet S.   It is noisy and so loud, the cigarette smoke when the door opens is so thick, I realise it is not conducive to conversation.   Since my son is away for the holiday, I ask S if he would like to come back to my place.  He follows me in his car.  I am very nervous as I have not had another man in my home for 3 and 1/2 years.

Things go really well for the first few hours.  We talk and enjoy great conversation.  I see that he makes some subtle advances and I begin to get nervous because I am realising I am in over my head.  Although I like S very much and find him attractive.  He does have an amazing body and beautiful blue eyes…..I am not ready.   My heart is a mess.  and if you know me, I need to have emotional involvement to have a relationship.  Otherwise he will be a one night stand.  I like S too much, I DON’T want it to go that way.  We have been friends for a year.  Not him……Not now.  But he doesn’t see this.  He continues to make advances.

First base.

I recoil.  He senses I am uncomfortable.  I apologize for pulling away from the kiss.  I feel like a line has been crossed.  I feel like I have betrayed my qualifier in some fucked up way, even though we are long since broken up and I still love him…. that only another victim/ empath would understand.  Some fucked up torch-bearer like me.  Even though I like how he feels, looks, tastes.  I feel what I am doing is wrong.   He tells me we will kiss again in a few minutes.  He is correct.

Second base.

In the pale light of the pc playlist going, I am having actual flashbacks.  My ex and S are the exact age, height, same hair cut, and in this strange light I am having flash backs of “him”.  As S is leaning over kissing me, I am actually seeing my qualifier.  It’s my C- PTSD (Complex-Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder) I recoil again because I am actually leaving my body. It’s too much to handle and so I’m just leaving.  S notices something is wrong and asks if I am okay and I don’t know what to say.  I tell him “I’m just leaving, just zoning out a bit.”  I am more worried about freaking S out and don’t know what to do.  How can I explain this to him.  The thoughts are intrusive.  They are flashbacks, not me wanting to think about my ex.  My guess probably largely due to the phone call I had just received.  Images of him fucking these people.  S continues puts his hand down my panties, I freeze like a deer in headlights panic and can’t seem to say anything, Much like a child who experiences sexual abuse,  body betrays me and responds anyway.     He probably thinks nothing is wrong.  But inside my mind is going wild my heart is racing out of total terror, not the excitment S is feeling.  I want it all to STOP.

Third base.

Something rises up in me and I finally I  able to get my body to execute what my mind wants to say and stop him cold in his tracks.   I take his hands and just flip him off.  I explain to him my position.  That once you cross that line, you can’t go back to being friends.  and as the words are coming out of my mouth I am simultaneously realising sadly, this man already thinks I am a whore.  This guy never had the intention of getting to know me either, the dirtbag.  He just wanted what he wanted.  Even though not one single solitary man has either touched me nor entered my home in almost 4 years.  Even though my ex has cheated on me scores of times, possibly a hundred by now, scar-ily.  I remained faithful to that sadistic misogynistic pig.   I just want to find a possible relationship and this guy only care about getting off.

Once S realises I am not going to fuck him.  He goes to the bathroom, says he’s going to freshens up and says he is going to head out citing that is will just further frustrate us both to keep going on this way.  Instead he comes out with his pants unzipped and asks me if I want to see how big his cock is as he’s already pulling it out.

I tell him “No!” and that him just leaving unless I did something sexual, is hurtful.

S said nothing and left anyway.

I feel like a filthy whore…..I feel like I have no worth.

All I wanted was to meet him and get to know him better.   Why wasn’t I able to tell him I need to have things move at a slower pace? Why can’t I set boundaries ?

Now this morning I have two pains.  The pain of knowing my ex rubbed my nose in some woman he fucked and how much she liked it and her husband apparently watching and liking it.  and knowing he chooses that over me.  and that he wrote me in an email that he paid $250 on two hookers 2 days earlier for their services.  How bad can I be, that he would rather be with a hooker?

The second pain is that my friend S, left because I wouldn’t fuck him.

The message?  Unless I spread my legs I have no value.

This must be fucking hell.  I must have died on the operating table 2 months ago during surgery.  Life can’t possibly hold this amount of pain.


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