In his final years, after my grandmother had passed, I finally got up the nerve and told my grandfather that if he ever touched one of my kids that I would kill him with my bare hands. It was a very freeing moment. One of those that stands as a turning point in my life.

The sad thing is that even then he blamed ME for it.

ME!

I was a fucking CHILD

But, I'll tell you, and nobody ever fucking understands it. When he died I was crushed. He had been the only father figure I had. He was all I had left.

I loved him.
I still love him.

My past haunts me It always does, even when I say it doesn’t and put on this front that I’m some super human person who doesn’t let her past scars show. Inside I am just a mess of self imflicted wounds that are still open and bleeding. I may have stopped cutting myself on the outside but inside I’m just as active as I was when I was in my teenage years.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a depressed person. Oh hell no. I have that shit all locked up so tight. I’ve even repainted it multiple colors and put fancy flowers all around it to make it look just spiffy.

Are you buying this?

I have my moments, like this one, where that door gets cracked and shit starts oozing out and I can’t get it all shoved back in. I don’t really even know WHAT exactly I am feeling, or better yet WHY I am feeling the way I am - all I know is it is deep and so gut wretchingly sad.

My body hurts, my lower body - my hips, my knees, my feet - they all just hurt - for no fucking good reason. And the shit thing is that I KNOW it is in my head. My physical pain is manifested by my emotional pain. The pain is very real, but it is because of emotional trauma that is not being dealt with.

Thank you very much, that will be $200 for the self diagnosis.