Just a typical Saturday morning. So I thought. It was sunny outside, blistering cold I’m sure, but it was nice to have the sun shine through my bedroom window. Yet, I just didn’t feel right. Something was off. I didn’t feel like myself at all. My forecast for the day, partly sunny with a patch of fog. That’s the life of someone who has PTSD. sometimes we have days where we just feel out of it. Sometimes we know the triggers, other days we can’t seem to grasp what caused us to

It’s a rough road. For those who are going through or have gone through any form of abuse. The task of surviving day to day. As the one enduring the abuse. The unknown of whether or not we will make it out alive. The unknown if we can ever escape. The unknown of what will happen to us if and when we do escape. What will he or she do if they find out? What will happen to me? For those who have children; it ups the ante 100 folds. Why don’t people leave right away? It’s easier

When your biological father doesn’t love you, it cuts you deep. It leaves you vulnerable and weak. Leaving you open to predators Who seek to do nothing but devour you. When your father doesn’t love you It leaves you searching for it in the wrong places. It leaves you craving it. No matter how it is that you taste it. Love is all that you want. Love is all that you long for. To be loved. It is all you dream about. You fall for all the lies. No matter how big or small. You will

I am a survivor. I come with a lot of baggage, I will be first to admit that. Things that don’t bother or set you off, can send me into a whirlwind of emotions for days. PTSD. One of those things I had to learn to live and deal with. It is a part of me. It is not something that just goes away. My past has made me very alert to a lot of things. It is a good thing but also a bad thing. Sometimes I tend to get defensive when there is no need for it. It is as if at times I feel l

A few minutes later she was finally gone. Out of hell she escaped. Without nothing, not even a scrape. The butterfly had found an opening in the window. And started to fly towards a better tomorrow….. On to brighter days she thought to herself, Not knowing that there would be new obstacles. These obstacles would be different though. The obstacles of the mind. She wanted all memories erased. Unfortunately she realized this would not be the case. It took a long time for her to

The residue of you. It doesn’t take much to remember the pain of you. The first man I loved. My first hero. My first heart break. You are the reason for a lot of my firsts, but you were never a part of many of the important ones. Shit, you never even came to my graduation ceremony they held for 6th graders going on to junior high. You sent your girlfriend. You replaced your children with whatever bullshit you felt was more important to you at the time. The residue of you, is

I’ve always been drawn to water. I love the oceans, lakes, and ponds. It is as if it is my own little piece of heaven. The place where I can let all my thoughts run wild and yet at the same time I can still feel at peace. I can scream out all my pains without fear. I can cry my deepest cry without judgment. Then, as soon as I have pulled myself together I am literally face to face with myself. Looking at my reflection on the water. Sometimes the body of water may be peaceful,

She was lost in her own hell. Barely holding on. She thought she knew better than to sleep with the devil. His lies kissed her lips and she was gone. His masked disguise left her blind. Her strength and courage was sucked right out of her. She was a dead woman walking. Scared to cry out for help. Scared to run away. She held back her tears and carried on each day. Not knowing how much more she could take. Not knowing if tomorrow she would awake. Walking on eggshells. Plotting

Have you ever wondered why? Why he or she covers up the lies? Why he or she doesn’t just leave? Why he or she cannot see what you see? Have you ever tried to understand? Walk in his or her shoes if you can? Ever think of the dangers that are at hand? Do you realize the mental control that is in place? Do you know the things that he or she must face? Do you know what is possibly at stake? How much careful planning it all takes? Before judging and assuming, before victim bashin

One morning she woke up different. Done with trying to figure out who was with her, against her or walking down the middle because they didn’t have the guts to pick a side. She was done with anything that didn’t bring her peace. She realized that opinions were a dime a dozen. Validation was for parking. Loyalty wasn’t a word but a lifestyle. It was this day that her life had changed. Not because of a man. Or a job. But because, she had finally realized that life is way too sh

So as you all know I started writing my book about my experience with domestic violence, the chapter I am currently working on so far is one of the most difficult chapters. It has taken me a long time to write what I have written so far. It has opened up a wound I thought was healed. I have realized that there has not really been full closure on this aspect of my life. Many tears have been shed while writing previous chapters, so many unanswered questions. So many “Why’s?” an

Follow my blog with Bloglovin Through my past experience with domestic violence, I used to find it hard to look at myself in the mirror. I was ashamed of what I would see. During the domestic violence I would look at myself and question who I really was. I would sit there and say to myself: “What did I do to deserve this? What is it that I am not seeing that he seems to see is a problem?” It was always me, me, and me. But the reality was it was always him, him, and him. It wa