The nightmare.

I like how life happens. You’re born, have a while to live what should be an innocent period, go to school and then grow up. Sometimes not in that order for some people. I think that my grow up period got shot to hell before I got to it. Or family moved to a farm in Missouri when i was about 9 years old. When the family moved to that “haunted” piece of shit house in back wood’s Missouri, it was like moving from a home that made sense, to a nightmare. My aunt, who I suspect of part of the abuse, had us move in with her to hell house. She insisted that it, in fact, was haunted.

She is a disgusting, vile woman, incapable of making decent conversation. At the breakfast table before school one morning, she was telling a tale about a friend of hers who was caring for a couple of people. One of the people was impacted and she gave a graphic description of the process that her friend used to help this other person. When I made a face, she suggested that i leave the room. Good advice too late! At breakfast at that! It was then that my hatred and disgust with that vile wench began!

The daytime nightmare became real nightmares as I started dreaming of odd things. One dream in particular was quite vivid. I was probably about 10 at the time. In it, my brother and I were making our way down a path. There were women cooking along side of the path. Everything was silent. They indicated for us to rub some bubbling liquid on our faces and when we did, part of the path opened up and the scenery changed. Standing before was a gray castle with nooses hanging from many frames. From the keep rode out a rider on a horse that tried to run us down. We were carrying something that we threw the rider and knocked him down. The dream ended there. I awoke, undisturbed, not frightened much, and was able to go back to sleep peacefully. That dream has reoccurred twice more since. All three events were identical as far as i can tell as over ten years passed between the two and about two years between the last two.

I don’t believe this happened in reality but I do think that there is connection between what really happened to me when i was abused and the dream. A problem with that is that in the dream I was able to fight off evil. In life evil pounds me in the ass.

I want to know what happened to me,and who was involved. I suspect my aunt but feel like there were others too. In in the past I looked for vengence but now a great many of possible participants are dead. My aunt, who I’ve avoided for years, I’m told has Alzheimers. She regales my cousins with repeated stories of the past. I see no answers coming from her. My parents are now dead, I’ve suspected that dad had some knowledge of whatever happened but never able to bring myself to query him. I also think that other adult members of my father’s side of the family did too. Perhaps that is why left our home so away to land in squalor in that rats nest of a hole in the earth near here so long ago.

If answers are in my brain, I don’t know if I will ever retrieve them. I have tried in therapy several times but each time the memories would be averted before they could be brought forward. I’m sure that i need to know now WHAT happened, but it would be nice to find peace. I have so much anger in me. It would be a shame to go to hell before able to let it out.


5 thoughts on “The nightmare.

  1. I recognize this feeling. It is so aggravating to know, and yet not to fully know. I can kind of remember, but it’s foggy. And the one person who could best clarify it for me 1) has a vested interest in denying it and 2) experienced a frontal lobe brain injury 20 years ago and so has a very unreliable memory. That means I will never know more than what my own mind chooses to remember.

    I think in the end we may need to find peace without all the answers we wish for. I’m still not sure how to do that, but I want to try.


      1. I used to believe it was just me, that other people with histories of abuse could remember exactly what happened and when. And therefore I must be making it up. But reading blogs has been extremely helpful for me. I’ve learned that many people have partial memories, or gaps in their memory. It’s actually pretty normal. That doesn’t make it necessarily easy to live with, but it does make it easier to believe myself.


      2. So true. Being male, i find that some people disallow the abuse I suffered as a youngster. Having gaps doesn’t help because i can’t put face or name yet to my abuser,i can only see ghosts and feel the pain.


      3. We have plenty of empirical evidence that boys as well as girls can be the victim of sexual abuse. And why should that be any less traumatic? I think you can dismiss anyone who doesn’t get it.


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