Every year is a battle for me... specially the past 2 years. For those who have no clue, here's the story...
Along with all the other mental disorders i have, i also suffer from PTSD. (stress the word SUFFER)
I had the pefect childhood! I had my Mom, My Daddy, My brother, and my sister in law because got married when I was 2 and had my niece when i was 3, so she was my little sister. I was so happy, and was very spoiled. Most people knew me as my daddy's little ragamuffin or his "lil boy" (my dad's friends would jokingly tease me about looking like a little boy because my kindergarten boyfriend cut most of my hair extreamly short, so i had a chili bowl hair cut), and I would go everywhere with him. If you saw my daddy, you usually saw me.
I was very close to him. My mom, like now, works nights. Back then the hrs were from 11 pm to 7 am, and she would sleep durring the days after she worked, so i would be with my daddy most of the time. He did little odd and end jobs when he could (jack of all trades and a certified tractor mechanic) and we had a little veggie farm on our 15 acres. I learned alot in all that time...
Then when I was 7 he started to get really sick...
His cancer was getting really bad and he went thru alot of chemo...
I was 8 and in the 3rd grade, having to see the biggest part of my life, the strongest man I knew, slowly pass in front of my eyes.
The hospital said there was nothing else they could do and sent him home with Hospice to pass around loved ones. It was for about 4 months.
One thing I will never forget is that right before he went on bed rest, He took his last outing just to go up to Walmart to get me a VCR and The Lion King (we didnt have a vcr and I was daddy's little girl and really wanted the movie).
My dad had to argue with a woman over the last video because that's when it was really popular and becoming sold out.
I came home from school that day, and it was a bad day because a high school guy purposly banged my head into the window on the bus (i was an annoying little kid), and i was holding my head, but when I walked in the door and saw that, I ran to my daddy and gave him a big hug and kiss and I dont know how many times I watched that movie, lol.
Then on March 21, 1996, I woke up, got ready for school, Gave my daddy a hug and a kiss bye, said we loved one another, and my brother drove me to the bus stop. The bus runs around 7:30. I didnt know that it was the last time to tell him i loved him...
His time of death was 8:21 am.... right after I got to school.
i was so confused when they signed me out from school that day. My sister in law signed me out, and i thought we were going to her work when we got there (i had no clue), but when we got in the building, I saw everyone sad, and my mom bawling. I rembember going up to her and asking her what was wrong, and she told me, and then when she was telling me they were rolling him behind us... I didnt know what to think... I just curled up in my mom's arms and started crying, and the next thing i know my brother's holding me.
I dont remember much of the next few months, until the time my mom got an abusive boyfriend (towards her, not me). I had to watch him beat her, I was 9 and ended up loosing my virginity to his 14 yr old nephew (i had just learned about sex), and lots of things just went wrong.
Then one day poo just hit the fan. I called my brother and he was there with the cops (had an ex cousin in the local PD) within 5 mins, and if my sis in law wasnt there, he probably would have killed him... I didnt even know that I saved the day, but everyone told me i had locked his keys in the car and he had to bust the window out just to get in the car! If i wouldnt have done that he would have got away, but my brother tagged his car just in time. He didnt care about the damages, it was Momma we were talking about. (was just a little ding anyways)
I was 12 when that day happened, and my mom's learned since then. My Daddy was never like that, and she was a little off the deep end herself.
All these years i've been trying to get over it, but the flashbacks and everything still come back, along with the extra panic attacks I have (makes my anxiety worse) and are in full force around this time of year, which is usually why I'm on Gather, to help keep my mind off of things and to feel good.
I cant be on my usual meds for it since i'm prego, but I'm glad i'm close to my 3rd trimester.
I wish i could just get on with my life and let this go, but for some reason I cant, but its something chemical, and when you're tramatised at a younge age, it can stick with you forever. I hope not though....
Saturday will be 13 years, and I plan to do the same thing I do every year, Bawl my eyes out, look at pictures, pig out on icecream, and Watch the lion king. (btw, the original VCR doesnt work, but i still have it put up in my closet). Its still my grieving day.