I last saw the man who has lived in my nightmares at around 9 or 10 years old. Still, he has made my life miserable not because he was actively in it, but because of what he did and the fact that when I finally got the courage to tell anyone… well they did not believe me. He said that they would not. So if he was right about that, what about the other things that he said? Was it all really my fault?
Biden just signed a Bill…I am so happy for it…it takes away the limit for how long you have to take your abuser to court. How long you have to get the world to see them for the piece of shit that they are… for some people that is a miracle.
For some of us…there is no justice.
I am not saying that just because he is dead. My abuser committed suicide just a few years ago…Don’t expect me to mourn him.
No, I am saying that because I can’t go back and get my family to see the truth. I will never be able to look at my self and think I am not deserving of the way that I was treated… why? Because I obviously missed something. Something that he saw.
My mom doesn’t understand. She asked me if she ever actually said that she didn’t believe me… no not in those words. She said that I must have been remembering it wrong. That I didn’t have the dates exactly right. Okay…I was supposed to handle the memories better. I see. I was supposed to get over it… because that is what you do right?
No, Justice doesn’t always come. But the Bill that Biden signed is a huge step in the right direction.
To start this story I need to explain something. I lived in a two-bedroom trailer with often ten or more people. We did not have running water. We lived a mile back in the woods. There were always animals…dogs, birds, cats…But this story focuses on one cat. The cat that left a lifetime mark on me. B.c. which was short for bad cat. He wasn’t bad. He was amazing. I did not have a bedroom. Mom and Pop had one, and my two stepbrothers had the other. My little brother and I slept on couches in the living room. There was another couch that whoever was staying over slept on. And we had a weird guy in a tent outside for most of my preteen years. Sometimes somebody in a camper outside as well. The people who slept on that couch had a few things in common. Usually, they were male. Often they were seen as trustworthy. They were not always.
We moved in there when I was eleven. I however have had an adult-shaped body since I was 8-9. Many of the men would try to make sure I knew that they wanted more from me than I was willing to give. Well BC was my defender. Those that crossed lines with me would often find that they woke to cat poop on their chests. He did not do it with everyone…and I did not control him. But it felt like He was always taking care of me.
Now anyone who has a cat will tell you that they bring you presents. BC was no exception. I often received dead mice. bird or lizard carcasses. I got very used to just using a paper towel and throwing them away.
I started ninth grade late…it was October when I started school that year because I had my son on the first of September. I was fourteen. So I had a lot of kids who picked on me. I was just as weird in high school as I am now, if not more so. And I had a kid. It was no secret. So one of the freshmen during my sophomore year thought that he could make a name for himself by pranking me. He just choose a poor prank considering my life. He saw a dead mouse laying outside the cafeteria. I had a bad habit of leaving my stuff at the table when I went through the line for breakfast. It wasn’t like I owned anything worth stealing. My purse at the time would have had my nail polish, an electric blue or black color, my wallet which was always empty, my hairbrush, a pen and notepad, and maybe some chapstick. On the rare occasion I would have my prized possession, a mini-cassette recorder my grandmother had bought me. So I would dump that and my backpack on the table and go get in line for my free breakfast.
The boy chose to put the mouse corpse in my purse. I discovered it in first-period Biology class when I went looking for my pen. I just calmly did what I always did with such things, believing it to be a gift from BC. I used a paper towel and disposed of it. The boy had expected a scream. I didn’t. So he approached, apologized, and became a friend. It was decided that I would be called Mouse due to the incident, and it stuck…I am still mouse at 47, the nickname was assigned when I was 15.
Bc left that winter. He never came back. I am aware that cats will go find someplace to die. But we never found him or his body…and I believe in the fae. So I can tell myself that the fae stole him because he was too smart for the human world. And I can enjoy the memories of the cat that got into so much mischief that it became his name.
I am not sure if I will do the proper posts tomorrow or another of my stories from childhood…I will have to decide then. Thank you for your patience with my whims.
I have never made secret of the fact that I am a survivor of childhood sex abuse. And yesterday was a very emotional day.
Survivors know that most monsters wear human skin. My monster was a quiet man that everyone believed was a good person. He told me that no one would believe me if I told about how he hurt me. He made me believe that I deserved the pain. That is what monsters do. They convince you that you deserve every bit of what they do. Even in death he haunts me, as I find myself feeling like a bad person for enjoying the fact that he committed suicide.
Monsters are among us. And now the world has one less. Though I am relieved I will not celebrate any farther. I will instead work on creating beauty to combat the monsters that remain in this world. I will be an advocate for those who have had their voice stolen.
This means that I am going to need to step back and breathe, I need to calm the emotional roller-coaster this has created. I will be back on Monday. Until then, avoid the monsters and be kind
Before I do this… I apologize for the late posts the last couple of days… I have been helping a friend and I have been late getting home. Usually I will do the posts while out if need be, but I was the driver this time. Stretches my ability to get things done.
Lyrics – Crawl out of the hole you’re in Who you are is not who you’ve been Now’s the time to sink or swim Will you fight the tide or get lost within And I know you’re feeling low Feel like you’ve lost control But the darkness that you know It’s not your home and you’re not alone And all you’ve wanted was just so much more This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul The silence You feel it cold as a winter storm This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul Iron bars are hell to break Tell me now, do you know what’s at stake? Your whole life in a blank stare haze You walk around like the end of days And I know you’re feeling low Feel like you’ve lost control But the darkness that you know It’s not your home and you’re not alone And all you’ve wanted was just so much more This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul The silence You feel it cold as a winter storm This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul I’m callin’ out to you Can you hear me? They can’t break you down Let you hit the ground I promise you it won’t be long (Won’t be long) You’re feeling overwhelmed here Drowned by the pain and the fear The sun will come with the dawn All you’ve wanted was just so much more This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul The silence You feel it cold as a winter storm This world has taken ahold Don’t let ’em get your soul… Get your soul…
My 2 cents – this is a song about learning how to be strong after a struggle. Don’t let the world destroy you. It’s a good song, and it feels like a good message.
So I was having an email conversation with a friend about social media. He was pointing out the algorithm that sucks the orginality out of social media in general. While I agree with him and sometimes I think that I would be happier without the view of humanity that I recieve from reading the interwebs, I would miss the delight of seeing the creativity in the human soul.
The conversation ended with the idea that we both often feel unseen. It is not, I am sure, a novel feeling. To feel like instead of being actually heard… You are merely sending echoes into the void.
So I think that I want to hear the echoes…tell me something that you feel like isn’t being heard. One thing that you want to say. I will listen. And then go through the comments and hear others. Or pass the post on to others. Let’s get it to where no one feels like that echo.
[Verse 1] A paper crown, and a heart made of glass A tattered gown, and a kingdom of ash She walks alone, she can never look back The story of a queen whose castle has fallen to the sea She’ll make it out, but she’s never the same She’s looking down at the scars that remain But you hold your ground, though your kingdom’s in flames ‘Cause it’s the story of a queen whose castle has fallen to the sea Knowing there’s no one who will be A king that will come and save his queen
[Chorus] When all she needs, when all she wants, when all she finds When all she is, and ever was is compromised ‘Cause there’s no one to love you When you built your walls too high And there’s no one to love you When you build your walls too high
[Verse 2] She’s looking out from the war that’s inside You’re screaming out ’cause no one survived But when you’re all alone, you wait and you hide ‘Cause it’s the story of a queen whose castle has fallen to the sea Knowing there’s no one who will be A king who will come and save his queen
[Chorus] When all she needs, when all she wants, when all she finds When all she is, and ever was is compromised ‘Cause there’s no one to love you When you built your walls too high And there’s no one to love you When you build your walls too high
[Bridge] There’s no one who is strong enough to save your love There’s no fairy tale, there’s no fairy tale
[Chorus] All she needs, when all she wants, when all she finds When all she is, and ever was is compromised ‘Cause there’s no one to love you When you built your walls too high And there’s no one to love you When you trap yourself inside
My 2 cents –
This song touches the heart. Self sufficiency and survival…. Two realities. This song just makes me feel like I am not alone in this world.
Pattimouse 