This has been the best day since the fall. I think I know why I have been so shaky since it happened 3 weeks. Once again I cheated death. It was totally different than I thought.I wasn’t completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do. I had lost a chunk of time. I hit my head several times, really hard. Yet I am still here. Always my damn head. My dads favourite spot. As a boy I also feel about 15ft str8 onto it, was unconscious, spent the night in hospital.
I wasn’t completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do.The fall also forced me to see how vulnerable I was and I couldn’t carry on as if nothing were wrong with me. I look back over the last 3 years of showing. killing myself with pain, putting myself and others at risk. Was I being stoic? Brave? No. I was still showing my dad that I was not the weak sissy he always said I was that he had no reason to be ashamed of me. I saying look dad, despite the agony and fatigue I am fighting it. I will not become dependent and disabled. I. have had quite enough of his fucking shit. He can have it back. Why on earth would I want to please that monster? A Big Man who beat on very young children. Who was cruel, sadistic, and just plain nasty. And a great liar and actor too.
It wasn’t just that old tape though feeding what I was doing. I felt it was grossly unfair that I should survive mentally, emotionally and physically only to find I was becoming disabled. No way! This is NOT going to happen. But now? I accept it. I am defeated. In a good way. I just let it all go. I can deal with this too. This too is not my fault. Half a dozen Drs have said that my ailments are a direct result of the abuse. I suppose living for so long with such fear and torment and physical pain from violence and sexual abuse outside the home is bound to take it’s toll. The evidence is all there.
I don’t understand this. I still think it is grossly unfair. But so is a child being born to starve to death grossly unfair. So is the slaughter of 8000 muslim men and boys 20 years ago by Xians in Bosnia. The Holocaust. One can go and complain it is all so unfair.
Or one can find out one’s purpose now. Look for the good in it all. The fall was definitely a demarcation line for me. The end of an era and the beginning of new one about which I know nothing. I seem to being pushed to write and write and write. I am sick to death of that suggestion. So I write and write and write. A book? Why? So I can placed among all the other abuse stories that now have their section in the book shops. I find that incredibly distasteful and I now doubt the voracity of those stories. They are a big money industry. Yes, I think some readers may be helped. I also think there are those that get their kicks from being voyeurs to our pain and suffering and so it is know these stories sell. I don’t want to be part of that. I think I reach far more people right here on the ‘net. Much more immediate. And much honest too. No editor. No one to say ‘change this’ ‘change that’ make it more ‘dramatic. ‘No, embellishing is not lying.’