From haunting to nightmare, the past is a bitch

You know, I had a pretty decent life as a child. Loving parents, played out doors. A typical 70’s kid. Oh, sure I had “troubles” in so much as I felt my brother got more attention than I did (he didn’t), and of course staying out past curfew, that sort of thing. But otherwise a good life.

Then I became a teen, even flew from Nova Scotia to Calgary on my own at 14 …

The past is a funny thing, sometimes you remember thing differently than actual events, sometimes you remember things less creepy than they were, and sometimes, you even forget the bad things.

Until about 2 weeks ago, I had pushed the darkness way to the very back on my memories, buried it under a bunch of trash and seldom even had a thought of it.

But now, I try to sleep and all I see is what happened, remember it all. My uncle forgetting to pick me up, the shuttle driver asking me if I needed a ride, for free. I even remember the outfit I was wearing. Nothing wrong with the outfit, not for a 14-year-old girl. A nice wrap around jean skirt that went below my knees, and loose t-shirt that was not tucked in, no makeup, no jewelry. Nothing wrong with my outfit.

Nothing happened, it wasn’t until after I got to my uncles the bells went off.

The driver introduced himself as a friend of mine, I didn’t have the bravery then to call him a liar, and uncle gave me a beer, I had never had a beer before, and a nervous as I was, I am sure you can imagine how fast I drank it. By this time, I didn’t know how to get out of the lie without coming off as the person in the wrong. The shuttle driver (don’t even remember his name. Dave? Dan, Joe? Maybe even James? Whatever it was, wasn’t important. He took me to an old airport his buddy was manager or security guard of. Took me up on the roof “for the view” … The details get hazy now, I just remember him leading me to the edge or the 2 story building “to see the view better”, and when he stood behind me, arms around me (when I tried to leave) he took me so close to the edge my feet were hanging over the edge.

I finally managed to get away from the edge, and in my beer addled state, believed him when said that he didn’t mean to scare me. We talked about me for a bit, how I felt ashamed of my body …

That’s when he put his hands on my thigh, ran his hands up my leg, between my legs … tried to put his fingers under my underwear

I am fighting a panic attack as I type this.

I don’t know if it was fear, disgust, or finally sobering up, whatever it was, I had the presence of mind to push him away and shout “I AM ONLY 14!! TAKE ME HOME!”

Not sure who was shocked more, him or me. He said sorry, told me “if you didn’t dress that way I would have known, but really, you looked 18 and of age.” (still creepy dude, found out later you were 40 something)

The nightmares are back, and with those nightmares, so are the ones about the step kid, and what may or may not have happened with my son.

There was a time I would have died or killed for that child, he owned my heart. I loved him more than life. Then he happened to life.

ALL my doubts about my parenting, and being a wife, and mother and … I mean obviously I can’t keep friends, anyone touches me I gross out. My dreams are haunting me, and it is getting harder to ignore them.

I know they lie, my son is an AMAZING kid, my husband loves me beyond words …

But I hear Mom’s voice, I hear that mans voice, the bullies in school, I hear step kid taunting, and worst of all? I hear my OWN voice, louder than them all. Agreeing. Cutting me down, adding and piling on the doubts.

I know it’s bad when even half a sleeping pill can’t shut off my brain.

Even hubby only knows so much, never the whole truth.

Add to that the fear of a child, the fear for my child, the abuse we both suffered at the hands of that child. The lies he told about me …

I am unraveling and I don’t know what the trigger was.

I try to fight it, I just

Some nights, like tonight, I just don’t know how much strength I have left to shut up the voices, close off those images. I can still smell him. EWW

NO, this is NOT a cry for help, I will not commit suicide, never ever again. I made that promise, I WILL keep that promise.

It’s just so damned hard to keep fighting sometimes. THIS is when I wish I had a friend I could text all hours of the night, rather than being that person to be texted or phoned… only to be dumped when something better comes along.

For now, I will blame my mood on my period, because why the fuck not. It beats face reality at 4:30 in the morning.

Seriously, if you read this? I could use some SERIOUS hugs right now.

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