Day two of new meds. Lets see how they do as my body adjusts. All I know is that I stayed up way to late writing last night and only had a nap. That nap though was just long enough for a nightmare to start however. Quinn was taking me to the park, I was a little girl again. We had my sisters in tow. As the sun starts to come out more and more from the clouds I can see Quinn giving the rest of my siblings juice and sunblock, while he tosses me a hat after the youngest asked about me. It was starting out great but then it turned darker. He took me to the side the furry written in his face right down to his clenched fists. If I knew you were a chug I would have never stayed with your mother. I wouldn’t be trapped with such a vile woman. With this his hand grabbed my upper arm hard enough to bruise me as he shook me. You will learn to be a good little girl and stop running your mouth. You talk way to damn much, if i hooked the car up to your mouth instead of the alternator I wouldnt need fucking fuel.
Thankfully I was getting restless or upset enough that my service dog Peace decided it was time to wake me up. The thing is, while it was a nightmare it was partly true. I was mocked often for how much I would talk, would be told to shut up, how the energizer bunny couldn’t keep up with my mouth…. every single time one of these things came from someone’s mouth it made me grow more and more shy. More and more withdrawn. I was taught something was broken with me. My siblings and cousins getting bigger gifts at birthdays and Christmas. One year they got concert tickets while I got a couple new novels. Don’t get me wrong I love to read, but most children would catch this at christmas and wonder if they had been to bad for Santa to give them a ticket to. I would spend hours every day after school doing homework because it never met my parent’s standards, until it was to much work to keep me inside and then it was “it will have to be good enough for your teacher, go away”. There was even a period where I lost control of my temper, I was eight. This was after my mother had put her foot through the dry wall. I refused to go away, I needed to be heard. I had to much bottled up and the logic didn’t add up. It never added up. I was on the stairs while she was at the landing, getting more and more mad. Threatening to tell Quinn I was the one who made the hole in the wall. I had zero intrest in her lies anymore that day. I learned though to take it when dad got home. He just lifted me, carried me upstairs and lifted me to the top of my bunk bed in the room I shared with one of my siblings, yet instead of the top of my bed i landed on the other side of the room. He just picked me up and told me to shut the fuck up and calm down then we can talk and dropped me on the top bunk this time.
I tried to climb down but my one arm hurt to much. I had been crying for a couple hours by then from pain and very clearly saying I was hurt. It took six hours for me to be offered tylenol. I had been crying that whole time and curled up trying to make it so my arm didn’t hurt as much. I also really needed to pee but i was stuck. It wasn’t till the next day when the bruise finally started to show that I was taken to a walk in. They promptly sent me to the ER. I had broken my humerus bone… the big one in your arm connected to the shoulder. I sheered it right accross just inches below my shoulder. or would it be more accurate to say my dad broke it. I left in a special sling cause my parents didnt want the full upper body cast. I already was starting to stink like a teenager to them.
I no longer danced that year, and I was good. The teachers treated me like everyone else. It was so novel. So instead I had to sit with my mom and watch them dance while she told me I was getting fat, i needed to watch what I eat. Issue is I was never inside unless I had to be. EVER. No matter the weather. I would go as far as I was allowed to walk/ride my bike/rollerblade and stay in that area, far from them as I could get. Trust me I did not step out of line again for years. So not only was i athletic but I was also actually under weight. Some foods felt wrong in my mouth and would make me gag. I would still be forced to finish the food and often ended up throwing it up. I learned in 2019 that my mother and father had refused to get me assessed for autism. i was verbally delayed, withdrawn, prefered to play with the younger kids maybe a couple grades younger, or better yet find some place to be alone and read. Even as school I was the outcast. The child picked on. When it came time for the last xray we were informed i needed surgery to rebrake it and put a pin in it as it had healed wrong as they had feared when my parents refused the cast i needed. They also said no to the surgery and said when I was an adult I could get it fixed they were going home. It never made sense to me why as a kid i was the only one without a regular dr. I think we can all clearly see why at this point.
So now I have these dark memories chacing me today. My service dog keeping me grounded and from getting lost in the total recall of those memories while I sit here and cry. Not just from the fact that the weather changed sharply again today and has given me a migraine but because my mind wont let me be. I am wearing my elastics on my wrist again and snapping them a fair bit and food, forget it. I tried and two bites in I wanted to puke. I fell asleep on the arm that never healed properly last night and its a little tender today, it’s probably what triggered the memory. I just dont want other, worse ones to jump out. Ive been to far down the depression hole for a few months now to be able to take that. Especially when you factor in that soon the anniversary of the day my child died in my arms at four after a long hospital battle is around the corner. Im not sure I could take more right now. I am to raw, in to much pain mentally, and physicially and a migraine on top of it. Yet I am to scared to sleep right now.
Who am I? 
I would love to hear from you!