The closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one.


I have reached one of those points in life where you just know that you are closing one chapter only to be on the brink of starting another. That moment when you hold your breath praying that this isn’t the end of the story because as much as we all love closure we never actually want our beloved stories to end.

We have laughed, cried, fallen, crawled, spilled blood, and risen with the characters that we have grown so fond of. You know the exact moment that you connected with this character and ultimately fell in love with them.

You are in mourning and despair as you learn that some of the ones you have grown so fondly for will not be coming with you into the next chapter of your life. It’s almost like holding a funeral for a beloved that has passed, though the silver lining here is you never know if maybe someday things will be different. Something that helps drive that final blow in though is when objects of comfort that have held and comforted you also will not be coming.

That moment when you realize that there is no net below you and you are on a breathtaking mountain. Everything you can see fills you with so much happiness, but there isn’t a guarantee that what you see is what you will get. There is also a chance that what you seek is not what you need. So you hold the D20 tightly in your grip almost as if you are praying.

You close your eyes and hold your breath as you slowly turn around. Your body slowly rocking back and forth tears streaming down your face. The fear of the unknown trying to suffocate you, but the feeling of pure driven passion is burning inside you.

At that moment you have one of those moments that stops time. As you hold your breath and fall back off of the mountain. You can see every single way that you could possibly fail, but at this moment those do not matter. All you can see is the softest glow of a single whisper of a moment where you don’t fail.

I have reached one of those moments in my life. I am slowly turning the page to a new chapter. A section that doesn’t contain everyone in my life, and where a comfort item has to be left behind to continue on. That item being my car. I fought as hard as I could, but I simply couldn’t do it alone. I had several amazing people reach out and try to help me, but it simply was not enough this time. Maybe it was supposed to end this way.

A chapter where I will no longer be hiding who I am. My voice is growing deeper by the day. I can see the physical changes that are happening to my body rapidly. The net is falling apart, and my only choices are to fall or fly. Though many wish that I fall I choose to soar, and if by chance I do fall I will then learn to swim.

Why is Everything so Heavy

I know that we all struggle with money. Some of us a lot more than others. I have been on both sides struggling in my early 20’s and becoming more stable as I’m getting closer to 30 now. Murphy’s Law though never seems to fail for me. Whenever I reach a point in my life that I have this whole adulting thing down, I get broadsided from the left field.

Yesterday, I got broadsided. We have been relatively tight on money lately even though my business is picking up. It hasn’t reached the point of becoming a stable reliable source of income. So I knew I was behind a month on my car, which I planned to catch up after the vendor fair that I will be working at the top of June. I was not given that ability though because apparently somehow I ended up two months behind on my car. So without any form of warning, I woke up yesterday. To find that my car had been literally ripped from my driveway. I found tread marks as scraping along my driveway. Where they obviously didn’t secure the car properly as well as my yard being torn up. I have no idea how no one woke up let alone how my dogs didn’t go crazy.

So like a good adult, I called them to find out what I need. Not only do I need to pay two months worth of payment. They tacked on around a 600.00 repossession fee as well as storage fee totaling 1500.00. They also informed me that this price will go up 30.00 per day and that I only have until June 16th to pay everything or they will be auctioning off my vehicle. If you couldn’t tell I can not afford to lose my vehicle, or I will not be able to do as many vendor fairs this year as I would like. So by losing my car, my business loses at too.

I don’t like to ask family and friends for help let alone absolute strangers. Though, my pride can take the hit right now. I absolutely can not come up with 1500+ dollars by June 16th. So I am asking for all the help that I can get. Don’t feel like you need to donate a large amount of money either small amounts will really add up, and if you really can’t help out financially please take a moment to share this post as much as possible.


The above is what I posted on my business website

I didn’t say anything about my past abuse. I didn’t say this is the first car that I have ever had that wasn’t a pos (piece of shit) beater that didn’t fall apart. I didn’t mention how my abusive ex-husband would literally disable the car(s) so that I couldn’t leave. He would disable the battery one day, next would be the fuses, then, he started pulling wires, and when I started learning how to fix it he would take off the tires sit in on cinder brick and hide the tires. I didn’t say anything about all the times I was beaten or viciously raped because I fixed the car and went to buy groceries, or God forbid something for myself.

I wasn’t allowed to work the entire first two years of our marriage because he was scared that I would leave because at that point I had enough friends that would have helped me. Though, I got pregnant within a couple months of being married when things weren’t that bad. When I got married I was only 18 years only and had been raised in an extremely fanatically Christian patriarchy household. So some of the things took me time to understand that they were in fact not normal, but were completely toxic and abusive. So I went into this marriage believing divorce was bad, and that divorce after children was even worse.

So getting away was complicated, to say the least, but getting a car to call my own felt like the first real step towards getting past my past. I know that I will always have CPTSD from that time in my life. I also have a generalized anxiety disorder as well as depression. I know these things will never be cured, but I try my best not to let them control my life. I take medicine, meditate, and see a psycologist on a regular basis so that I can keep the demons at bay. Though, losing my car has made everything look like static right now. It’s like the past and the present are blending in my mind. My car was my autonomy, independence, and an outward symbol to myself to show I’m a stable adult.

It feels like I’m watching an old VHS tape that has been recorded over, but you can still kinda see what the original tape had on it. It’s not as clear and kind of fuzzy. Though, it’s a constant reminded that it is there. For me its a deep seated pain like someone taking a scalpel and is making small cuts inside and outside of my body. Even though you can’t physically see the blood flowing from them I can feel it.

To make matter worse I don’t feel like my husband cares. He says he does like he does with everything, but his actions and intentions do not reflect the same. I feel like no one cares. I know that I am blessed that we have a house and another car… but it isn’t the same. I didn’t have a car in the driveway or a roof over my head, but before this car, I had nothing of substantial value to call my own. This house though yes through marriage it is mine, but legally it’s in my husband’s name. A fact that we can not currently change.

I feel like my independence has been ripped away from me, and that I’m falling. There is no form of a safety net that I will fall into to. No, I will continue to spiral and fall til there is nothing left. Eventually, I will be at the rock bottom a place that I had to claw my way out of. It’s full of darkness and it’s covered in this dark ooze that just sucks the life from you. It threatens every day you are down there to suffocate you for the final time as you are begging and fighting for your next breathe.

This is the words that I use to describe it to help others understand what it is like, but truly unless you have been there. It is not possible to understand the full scope of the situation. So I understand when friends that don’t understand ask me why I’m so upset. They don’t’ understand so they just think that I’m over exaggerating, and what they don’t understand is that it is not possible for me to over exaggerate something that they can’t even begin to comprehend the surface of.

It just pushes me to hate myself more… than I already do…


I have this song literally playing on repeat right now because it is one of the closest things to describe how I’m feeling. It doesn’t fully encompass my true feelings, but it helps.


I don’t like my mind right now
Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary
Wish that I could slow things down
I wanna let go but there’s comfort in the panic
And I drive myself crazy
Thinking everything’s about me
Yeah, I drive myself crazy
‘Cause I can’t escape the gravity

I’m holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
So much more than I can carry
I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down
If I just let go, I’d be set free
Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?

You say that I’m paranoid
But I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me
It’s not like I make the choice
To let my mind stay so fucking messy
I know I’m not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning ’round me just the same
I know I’m not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning ’round me just the same

I’m holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
So much more than I can carry
I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down
If I just let go, I’d be set free
Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?

I know I’m not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning ’round me just the same
I know I’m not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning ’round me just the same
And I drive myself crazy
Thinking everything’s about me

Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
So much more than I can carry
I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down
If I just let go, I’d be set free
Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Why is everything so heavy?
Why is everything so heavy?

Hard limits and Triggers

I live and breathe to bring out the potential in myself and others. I will sacrifice my time, energy, and resources to be there for a true friend or a family member. My views on life are that it is meant to be used to inspire others and improve the world. Continual self-seeking behavior is detestable to me and goes against my very core beliefs.

Bullying, belittling, and abuse is nearly unforgivable to me. Whether it’s sarcastic jabs at someone’s expense or something as detrimental as abuse, I will not put up with it. I have the heart for the hurting and the vulnerable, and can’t stand to see anyone being taken advantage of or oppressed.

I follow through on my promises and show respect to others by being there for them when I say I will be. This can mean anything from doing a task I’ve promised to do or showing up somewhere on time. If you consistently show up late, shirk obligations, and break promises, you’re bound to piss me off.

I can’t stand being talked down to, patronized, or condescended to. Some people misunderstand my quiet, sensitive nature as a form of weakness and feel they need to patronize me or ‘take charge’ of me. Well, I can quickly see through this kind of behavior and, although I may bite my tongue initially, I will likely lash out with uncharacteristic resolve and anger at someone who repeatedly talks down to me. I tend to easily analyze other people using a combination of insight, emotional awareness, and logical deduction. If you frequently patronize me, don’t be surprised if one day you find out I have been carefully collecting every logical flaw in your arguments and every personal weakness you have to completely annihilate you when you’ve finally gone too far with your superior attitude.

Generalized Anxiety Triggers

Before I become triggered, I  feel fragmented or lost. I feel like I can’t be myself, and feel an urge to act a part to “survive” or fit in. This disassociation can cause physical symptoms for me, like headaches, IBS, or nausea. The repressed feelings I have been holding onto can cause me to become immobilized. If I  am under chronic extreme stress, I may fall into the grip of my inferior function, introverted sensing. When this happens, I may engage in indulgent, self-destructive habits like binge eating, cutting, over-exercising, or usually smoking more. This often feels like an out-of-body experience to me. What I do provides no pleasure, but feels somewhat robotic and out of control. After this occurs, I dwell in self-hatred, falling even more into guilt over what I’ve  done. I  may become uncharacteristically angry and quick-tempered, unreasonable, and irrational. I may become obsessed with details in my outer world; obsessively cleaning or doing housework.I tend to stumble over my words, and my intense feelings eventually lead me to a state of complete exhaustion.
  • Talking on the phone. Especially with Doctors and bill collectors.
  • Large crowds especially inebriated crowds
  • Men yelling in an aggressive tone
  • Driving especially in the rain and even more so in storms.
  • Clutter and disorganization
  • Filthy living conditions
  • Excessive amounts of work placed on me.
  • Excessive high levels of noise.
  • Having to focus too much on sensory/concrete details
  •  An overload of sensory stimulation or noise
  • Interruptions
  •  Distress within a close relationship
  • Having my values violated
  • Not enough alone time. Too much extraverting.
  • Working with closed-minded people
  • Lack of appreciation or understanding
  • Unfamiliar environments with overwhelming amounts of details
  • Having plans disrupted
  • Not having a clear direction
  •  Lack of harmony
  • Excessive criticism and conflict
  •  Not being able to use my intuition or envision the future
  •  Having to focus too much on the past or present
  • Being in critical or confrontational environments
  •  Lack of affirmation
  • Unexpected change
  • Inadequate time to complete work to my standards
  • Tense relationships or environments
  • Having to do mundane, repetitive tasks
  •  Having to conform to something that goes against my values
  •  Over-empathizing with others to the point of losing track of my needs
  •  Being misunderstood or not trusted

How to help

  • Give me space.
  • Do not corner me.
  • Reduce my sensory stimulation; loud music, interruptions, TV, etc,
  • Let me express my thoughts and feelings.
  •  Understand that I may be irrational. Don’t judge me.
  •  Don’t give me advice. As well meaning as this it will not help me at right.
  •  Let me take a break from some of my responsibilities
  •  Encourage me to spend some time in nature, walking or reading a book.
  • Take a walk with me.
  • Encourage my less serious side, and let me relieve emotional tension by letting me cry through a sappy movie or novel of some sort.
  •  Be forgiving if I’ve been overly harsh or critical while under stress. Chances are, I will feel very guilty about it.
  •  Acknowledge how I feel.
  •  Let me talk it out.
  •  Remind me of my strengths and contributions.
  •  Don’t ignore me, even if I seem irrational.
  • Give me a change of scenery to get away from the situation.
  •  Do not patronize or dismiss my concerns.


Physical & Emotional Triggers

Before I trigger, I often disassociate myself from the situation to protect my sense of well-being and togetherness. I may repress the unpleasant side of life for so long, that it gradually intensifies until when I do trigger I may explode with emotional and/or charged anger. If the situation does not de-escalate, I may resort to physical violence. Often time my body will reflect pent-up stress by manifesting various physical symptoms, like headaches, shoulder tension or an upset stomach. In the case of chronic stress on my triggers, I may fall into the grip of my inferior function, introverted thinking. When this happens, I may uncharacteristically lash out at others, obsess over their mistakes, lack of competence and flaws. Eventually, these criticisms will turn inward and then I will withdraw from others to self-criticize. I may become obsessive about analyzing irrelevant data to find some ultimate truth or reason for this occurrence.


  • Pulling my hair without permission. (Must ask every time)
  • Spiting near me with insight a flinch
  • Spitting on me with insight a full flash
  • Touching, grabbing, or hitting me in anger.
  • Taking my phone or glasses from me in anger or jest.
  • Hiding my phone or glasses from me.
  • Breaking or damaging my phone or glasses.
  • Taking my car without permission.
  • Disabling or taking my keys to my car with the intent of not allowing me to leave.
  • Not allowing me out of my or any car.
  • Finding my car gone.
  • Wreckless driving while I am in the car. (Intensifies in dangerous road conditions. )
  • Purposely locking me out of anything or anywhere.
  • Continuing anything past red
  • Removing the ability for me to eat healthy balanced meals.


Hard Limits 

In BDSM, limits refer to issues that participants in a play scene or dynamic feel strongly about, usually relating to prohibited activities. Participants typically negotiate an outline of what activities will and will not take place. They describe what they desire, do not desire, will and will not tolerate, including the determination of limits. For example, it is common to set a safeword and to establish certain types of play as prohibited. The BDSM usage of the terminology “limits
  • Abduction play
  • Age play
  • Asphyxiaphilia play
  • Bimbofication
  • Breath play
  • Breeding
  • Caging/confinement
  • Crying
  • Deep throating
  • Defilement
  • Emotional masochism
  • Face fucking
  • Feminization
  • Fisting
  • Flesh hooks
  • Gagging/choked by cock
  • Gangbangs
  • Gender play
  • Glory hole
  • High heels
  • Hook suspension
  • Human ashtray
  • Human toilet
  • Humiliation
  • Impregnation Fantasy
  • Infidelity
  • Large objects
  • Nun/Priest play
  • Spitting
  • Tears
  • Tit fucking
  • Toilet
  • Verbal humiliation
  • Degradation
  • Waterboarding.

Soft Limits 

  • Artistic cutting,
  • Begging
  • Belt spanking
  • Belt whippings
  • Branding
  • consensual nonconsent play
  • Cunt worship
  • Depilation
  • Diapers
  • Enemas
  • Face slapping
  • Figging
  • Foot/feet
  • Latex
  • Lycra/spandex
  • Making home movies
  • Needle play
  • Pantyhose/Stockings
  • Play piercing
  • Pubic hair
  • Punching
  • Rubber
  • Scarification
  • Staples
  • Talking about my Triggers

Please Note: That the mass majority of these are in reference to it being done to me. 

Curious About 

  • Shaven by my submissive
  • Shaving my submissive
  • Doctor/nurse play,
  • Dyed pubic hair
  • Fire Play
  • Fire cupping
  • Fire flogging
  • Frozen cum cubes
  • Ritual hook suspension
  • Rope
  • Scenes so intense the audience safewords
  • Uncut cock
  • Watersports

Please Note: This is not an inclusive list, and I will add triggers as I find or remember them. A lot of my abuse and triggers have been repressed within my mind to protect myself. 


Short Note from the author.

This post has literally been a year in the making because discussing my triggers tend to be a trigger in an of itself, because my second abuser learned all my triggers. At the time I told him it was so that he was informed so that he would not trigger me. So that we could avoid them with the intention of trying to lessen them later. That never happened though. He learned all of them and then turned them around on me to use against me adding his own brand of abuse on top of them even adding even more.


The Good & Bad

It’s been basically 3 months since the last time I wrote anything here, and reading my previous post made me sad. I felt that way because I feel like it hasnt’ really changed. A lot has honestly changed since then, but it still feels like I’m stuck. I can see a lot of positive things, but behind the facade of motive and drive it is not really there. I have started sleeping more and more as well as later again. Nick and I just seem to be butting heads a lot lately, and well it sucks. I know that I’m still burnt out, and continuing to burn at that. I just don’t know how to put out the fire and pull myself out of the quicksand. To try and at least maybe simmer down the flames, I’ll try to be positive, and list the good & bad.


  • I have started to really commit to my business.
  • I have had my Etsy store viewed 356 times
  • Favorited 10 times
  • I’ve had 3 orders totaling 51.00
  • On Pinterest, I have 580 Followers
  • My website is now up and running
  • My Facebook page has 31 followers so far.
  • I’m planning to host a giveaway once my Facebook page gets to 100 followers.


  • I feel like the everything I have accomplish is minor.
  • I’m worried that my business will fail.
  • Nick and Me butting heads all over the place.
  • Nick is trying to start his own business that I’m worried will fail as well.

Well, I guess the good outweighs the bad after all. I’m glad that I took a moment to sit down and write this all out. I will try to make it a habit of blogging a lot more here and on my business blog.




etsy logoShop Stats for Feb 1, 2017 - Apr 23, 2017

etsy 4-23-17 stats for 2-1-17 -- -23-17ck 360

I suck at words and life right now. I feel like giving up, and I can’t tell you why. All I know is that I have felt this way for weeks. I know that I’m still got a long way to recover, but I just wish I could have a break from the doom cloud for a bit. If I can’t I’ll take a nice loud long thunderstorm. I love winter but I miss summer because of the storms. When they come thru they bring new energy and renewed life, and I would be mighty graceful for some right now.

I feel like I’ve been ensnared in quick sand but it’s not quick… it’s more like a really strong magnet but I can fight it a little. Things just don’t have emotion or color. I’m just walking around in a grayed out world. Oh but there’s blue that soft faint glow emitting from everything that is getting bigger and darker rapidly.

It’s been four years since that plane ride home that seemed to last for an eternity. I was so broken. I had spent the last three years living 24/7 as a full time slave to one of the only people I have ever called Master. I had no purpose anymore and I considered that point in my life a soulless period of time.  I had been used completely up I had no energy left. I was his possession to do with as he saw fit. If that including crawling across gravel to be forced to bring myself to orgasm on his shoes then that is what happened.

I don’t know where the consent ended and the rape began. The memories of pleasure and pain are eternally blurred. There were days that I wept in joy after being forced to orgasm in so many humiliating ways, but so many more sobbing and begging him to stop and wandering if this time would I finally go to sleep forever.


The point where you realize that no matter what you do you are just going to continue to spiral. I am completely burnt out beyond the point of a quick recovery, and I’m beginning to doubt that I will ever even be allowed to recover at all. My anxiety started to eat at my what is left of my core. The night terrors have consumed my dreams to the point I don’t even want to close my eyes at night, but when I try to wake up, I can’t keep them open because I’m so exhausted. I don’t get restful sleep, because my dreams are filled with running, fighting, sobbing, blood, death, and more. I wish that they were simply figments of my imagination, but no sadly my dreams are real. A reality that of the past still haunts me tainting my present.

I’m so exhausted and tired that I have begun to have suicidal ideations. What if I don’t press my break? Maybe I shouldn’t turn. If I take these, I could sleep forever. It will only hurt for a moment. Just one little step forward. This isn’t a phase or a call for help it’s merely just a glimpse into my life because this isn’t something new to me. It may be that this could potentially be one of the more powerful pulls to the darkness that I have experienced though it isn’t the first or the last.

Doubting everything around me is completely normal you see. Listening to the voices tell me that no one cares. That I’m simply a means to an end and that I’m just a tool to be used and discarded. Some would probably tell me just not to listen because it’s not true. That would be where you are misguided though because it has never been wrong.  It was right while my ex-husband played games with my head making me believe that I was a freak, and it was right while my ex-Master used me as a tool. Time and time again it has never proven to be wrong. That is why it’s not just something that I can shut off or ignore. What if this time it is not wrong yet again?



TW: Mention of BDSM, physical & mental abuse, rape, gaslighting, triggers, and miscarriage.

This tattoo has been in the works for a long time and will be setting the tone for this year. I spent almost eight years between two highly mentally & physically abusive relationships that I am going to touch on in this post.

It was during this time that I was heavily gaslighted during both to the point I began to think that I was losing my sanity. Things were never as they appeared to me they would swear over and over that I didn’t say that… or that event never happened. I began to question what was truly happening. So I stopped knowing what truly happened. My mind truly has holes in like Swiss cheese where I can no longer remember what happened. So when I am questioned about my abuse, and I can’t give an exact timeline… and people look at me like oh sure you just making that up… I just break down. I lose all control to rationalize what happened to me because I can’t just sit here and go ABCDEFG like a normal person.

When the fights began, they would always win. I didn’t realize that it was a giant game to them… or the fact that I was losing till it was far too late. Even before I was in a relationship with either of them screaming at me has already been a trigger for me. My father is old navy, and if he got mad, he would scream at me, and at that point when someone would yell at me, or even around me I would shut down. My reality would implode, and I would fall into pieces. I would try to run I wouldn’t know where I was going and have ended up passed out miles away at times. They knew this and would use it against me. They would scream at me causing me to run, and generally would trap me in a corner. I thought that this was something that I had overcame since it had not occurred in quite some time though recently memories have been boiling at the surface causing old and new triggers.  So they would scream at me every time I would try to simply talk and work things out causing me to shut down. Cornered until I would fight back finally, and of course, they would end up covered in bruises. It was always my fault so mixed with the gaslighting I would then begin to believe that I was the abuser.

Though, when I began to seek treatment,  I was stopped. A therapist couldn’t help me they were just there to listen to you cry and make money. They didn’t help people is what I was told over and over. Plus therapy is expensive, and that isn’t something we could afford. Money was never mine it didn’t matter if  I was working 2-3 jobs it was still never mine. I would constantly try to hide money, but if found out something would be done to make me pay for it. Like once again not buy groceries, or not allow me to get new panties even though all of the ones that I owned had holes and were falling apart. I ended up resorting to stealing a lot more often then I would like to admit. 

If I wanted something, it would never happen. If I needed something, I would have to beg for it. Even though at the time my size and weight never really changed drastically sex began to be withdrawn, and I would be told things like it just wasn’t the right time or mood. Then, I was told that I was simply too fat and too ugly. All of a sudden groceries that I liked and would eat we couldn’t afford. Though things that I disliked or refused to eat were in bought in plenty, this is when I started going days without eating and even began vomiting up food if I felt that I ate too much. So my weight became an immense deal to me. So even now I don’t eat that much. I rarely ask for food, and when I do if it is ignored I won’t eat for a few days. I  feel that if you ignored that I needed to eat, then you are saying I am fat. I don’t make myself vomit anymore I just don’t eat.

When sex would happen it was no longer making love it was mean sex.My ex-husband was very long, and he would repeatedly hit my cervix over and over. He would use my love of bondage as a way to lure me in. He would tie my hands to the bed, and he would take me for hours. He didn’t stop til I would either passed out or began to bleed. When I would curl up crying, he would yell at me, and tell me that this was my fault it was what I wanted. I wanted a man that would hurt me. I was after all a masochist, which was accurate enough. I did want a Dominant. I did want to be hurt… but not like that. All I ever wanted was a Dominant gentleman to guide me and love me. One that would make me beg and scream, but nowhere the lines where. He didn’t care, though  I was “HIS”

He loved to dress up in girls clothes, and I thought it was kind of sexy… my bad. Since I accepted him unconditionally when he would dress up, I would get punished for it. He began to hate that side of him as I would try to coax it out. It was during this time I made the mistake of telling him that I didn’t feel like a woman and that I felt that I was in fact, a man. I will explain further into this what I remember.

My lifestyle made me a freak to him even though he knew about it before marriage. I became a sex craved nympho that didn’t love him I just wanted sex even though at the point I began to abhor sex was when he started to adore it, and want more and more. He began to start to take me whether I wanted it or not. It took me a long time to call it rape.  I tried to reach out, but both my parents, members of the church, and the police told me that a man could not rape his wife. After, the third time of trying to reach out for help I stopped, and the mean sex and rape continued into my second abusive relationship.

What I just told you is something few even know about me. It is also only the tip of what truly transpired during this period in my life. Very few know that I suffer PTSD because of this if not CPTSD like I suspect that I do.  I don’t let many know that I have triggers let alone what they are because my 2nd abusive relationship used my triggers against me while adding his own. Though, he was not the only person that has used my triggers against me since then. Even less know that I suffer from night terrors or that over the last year they have increasingly gotten worse.

Early, I said I would explain what happened when I told him that I didn’t believe that I was a woman after he had started to dress feminine. The reason I said this is because I needed to explain about the night terrors first because the mass majority of them are memories of the past. They are not things that my brain has made up to frighten me. These are things that I experienced, and my mind suppressed to preserve itself. This particular terror is the most vivid that I have seen to date, and I will not be able to go into extreme detail so as not to trigger others. When I told him that I thought that I was trans I had just learned that I was pregnant for the second time. I had not yet been to a doctor though I had suspected that I was for weeks. During my first pregnancy with twins mind you I didn’t show as positive til I was close to around 7 or 8 weeks along. I was told this wasn’t entirely uncommon and was due to a lower amount of a particular hormone. So I can only speculate that I was at least that far this time around. As you can imagine due to his self-hatred of enjoying feminine clothing that me telling him I was trans was not taken well. In hindsight, I should not have said anything, though I thought maybe if I accepted myself that maybe he could accept himself.

It didn’t work out that way at. I remember him screaming that he was not gay while punching, kicking, screaming, and hitting me. I had fallen to the floor and was unable to protect myself at all. I was just trying desperately to protect my stomach as the blows continued for what seemed like forever. I don’t remember him stopping so I guess I passed out. The next thing that I remember was being covered in blood, and struggling to crawl to the bathtub. When I was able to get in it, I just sat in the bottom numb for a while til I finally began to sob. It was long after the water grew cold before I crawled out. I slept in the master closet that night. I can not tell you what I was thinking at the time all I can recall is the sheer terror that had completely taken over. It should go without saying that the next pregnancy test I took was negative. I also can not recall the next sequence of events.

I am sure by now you are wondering if I have sought help since then and the answer is yes I have, but also no because I have gained none. I had tried to tell my story to a couple of therapist in the past, but they proved to be unhelpful most finding my story to be dubious or far reached. I had several tell me that it was a figment of a mental breakdown that I must have had since I was unable to recall details in order or even at all in some cases.It was not until recently that I found a psychologist that I trust enough to begin to tell my story too or at least the parts that I can remember. One that I felt might be able to help me. Though, there is also a problem with this you see. I spend far more time helping others cope with their past abuse, current abuse, or even just their problems in general then I have ever spent on my problems. My psychologist has noticed this behavior, though that shouldn’t be much of a surprise considering the amount of time I have spent in his office talking about others far more than myself.

That is why I have decided that this year is going to be vastly different. I love my friends and my chosen family, and I have always been the person that is there no matter what is going on in my life or time of day. There have been many times that I have been spiraling completely out of control only to help someone else instead of seeking help for myself. It has been extremely rare for me to turn my back on someone when in truth I am probably in just as much if not more need of help than they are. I want to help people, but helping others at the risk of myself is beginning to have serious effects. Instead of taking the time to pull back recover and fix myself I have burnt myself out helping others to the point of physical fatigue and illness. The sheer truth of the matter I am not getting better I am in fact getting worse.

So I have decided to take the next year to treat myself and recover before I lose all hope of being able to do so. I am going to ask for others to seek help from others and to respect that I am unable to do so right now not. If this is hard for you to understand, you can look at it like I am a runner who has just lost their legs. No matter how much I want to run right now, it’s going to take time for my prosthetics to be sized and made. Then, it will be a slow uphill battle in physical therapy before I am even able to walk again let alone run. I am confidence though that no matter what anyone else says I will not only run again I will learn how to fly in time.