The Victim

 Sometimes I want to scream, "I don't fucking know, I can't remember. Maybe it is because of all the trauma!" I could so easily fall into my victimhood. Sometimes now I just cry, realize there is nothing in me that will allow this to continue and carry on. Yesterday at the lake, there was a dead cat. Then a dead fish, then a crawfish larger than I have seen one in a long time. I had deep communion in those moments. Looking deeply into my reaction. I wasn't jarred. Inwardly, I was rattled as hell and it took a lot to balance myself emotionally. Outwardly, I didn't respond but with a gasp of the horrors. The internal hells raged within me in those moments. I was consumed by the nature of life, deeply falling.

It is odd to people that I work in a haunted house. It doesn't phase me. Is this good or bad? Is this trauma or healing? I also second guessed myself with what I was seeing, did this really happen? My brain was trying to categorize, not at work, this is real, or are you dreaming? I gaslit myself so fucking hard that, I looked for the crawfish to video. Still gives me the heebie jeebies. Those snippy hands, ehe body shivers. Still, I composed myself and moved forward, internally feeling the depths of emotional hell asking myself these questions. And on the surface, move forward, one step at a time. There have been so many moments where I had to choke back the pain and move forward, one breath, one step at a time. Those are the moments that made me, for better or for worse. 

When I told my mother the terrible things that were happening to me, she called me a liar, and tried to choke me to death. I can still feel the hands sometimes around my throat, not wanting to admit it. I broke free, as I have so many times before and ran. I ran. I remember seeing my feet in slow motion hitting the pavement. My worn out shoes with holes in them. I could feel the rocks in the holes every time a foot slammed to the pavement, propelling me forward. One step at a time. One breath at a time. I've lived horror stories, it takes a lot to rattle me outwardly now. For better or for worse, it has affected my emotions.

The gaslighting of the self comes from being externally gaslit. Another term coming into the consciousness •••

•••

I was typing the above when I got the call from the vet. Lady Elizabeth went into cardiac arrest. She has died. I full blown emotional melt down happened after that. Proving to me that I am not dead on the outside. It showed me deeper lessons about myself. Was yesterday a forewarning and I once again ignored my inner voice? You're crazy the outside voices say. All the outside voices that are always wrong. Why don't I listen to my inner voice? I don't trust it? 

I'm heartbroken.