I have had a lot of people ask where I have been lately…
I can’t seem to write down the words. I can’t get them out. I try to write them in my books. I try to type them on the screen.
How come I can write about almost dying in my teen years? Guns shoved into my face… Teasing… Bullying… Violence no one should have to deal with…
I can’t write this one thing down though. (Honestly, two events. I ignore the other completely) I can share this one only with voice. The voice can’t possibly tell all the details… Every single detail. I relive every moment. Every second.
I was triggered and fired, like a gun. My fourteen-year-old son did this with just a few select words. He didn’t mean to. His intentions were 100% welcomed, helpful… NEEDED… But he didn’t know… The words should have maybe been whispered to my wife. Maybe I should have been left in, *shivers*, the dark?
I am 43 years old… 6 foot 4 inches or approx 2 Meters depending where you are in the world… I am not an easily intimidated male.
He spoke his words in urgency… They echoed in my head. A haze covered my eyes.
I turned into a 10-year-old little boy… My heart dropped and I was terrified. Adrenalin released into my system and my fight or flight instincts screamed at me to run. My body is broken from cancer. I can not run anywhere… My lungs are broken, my legs no longer listen to my brain.
Now, I am emotionally compromised. The memories flood into my brain.
My son disappears. Something in me took over. I know I looked at my wife. The fear, there in her eyes, was for me… She knew I wasn’t in the same room with them anymore.
I was now in the past. A time machine… Amazing technology, emotions.
I relived everything, again, in just a few moments.
Even these words are hard to write. Like peeking into Pandora’s box of emotions.
After the event… My son sat guiltily and emotionally upset for what happened.
I just started talking. I told him most of the gruesome, disgusting details. I didn’t hold back. I hope I don’t give him nightmares or scar him with the memory. My wife didn’t stop me though. I think she wanted him to know. His words after I finished. After I dumped it all out on his still growing mind…
“I never knew that, dad… I never knew it was that bad… I never heard that before.”
Things are still bad. I want to leave… I want to walk… I can’t stay here and yet I am trapped, surrounded by those that love me.
I want to leave so badly. They will come for me soon. The dreams… The terrors… The hands reached for me last night. They came and I was frozen as they rapped my mind and emotions.
I was frozen…
I haven’t seen a shrink in almost fifteen years… I never got far with anyone before I stopped seeing them. I’m thinking about trying again.
You don’t have to comment. I write this only for myself. If anyone gets any understanding or comradery out of my personal crap. That’s good then, right?
I’m not a person who wants others to feel sorry for him. I really just want to know if people like my stories and poems… But I need to vent somewhere… I have been keeping it in for 33 years… I don’t know what to do…
“I am such a nonconformist, I refuse to conform to your nonconformity!”