I chose not to send this to an online friend, because ...she is this sweet, sensitive person...and...the idea of her hurting for me is not a happy thought.
H, I love you...you're an angel walking around, don't let anybody tell you different.
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This is triggery, if you delete it without reading...well I will read it to myself then...I willl have it. It was important, so very important to write...perhaps not so important that someone read it.
Your heart bleeds a lot.
Don't bleed for me.
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I may write a poem about it, actually...images are rattling in my head...
I am feeling like I'm going to be having a really bad flashback again. Like the one before...I can't remember what I've told you...my memory is going.
The last one...it wasn't so much that I became broken inside, as I realized exactly how shattered I am at a core level.
And all my armor blew off.
For instance...it used to just bother me when my wife shouted at miscreant inanimate objects.
Now I'll really want to walk out of the house or go to sleep, to get away from her.
OTOH, last night I was on my hands and knees, giant grin on my face, chasing an armadillo around with a camera at a floodlit gas station.
So it's like...I'm starting to be all the way here now.
Like I haven't been since I was either six...or four. The first abuse was at four, but it wasn't incest, it was oral rape by a neighbor...I think it took the more serious, later body invasions, the rapes by the predators I could never escape but had to trust...my uncle, my dad.
That was what it took to send the essence of me away. What broke my heart in truth, because it's still broken.
Does that mean to some degree I'm like a small child arriving, from where I've been packed away?
I think so...
I'm sorry for sending you this pain, angel-lady.
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