Anyone that suffers from PTSD has, more than likely, had a nightmare that has woke them and left them on edge, feeling a little nervous and/or scared. The difference between the person with PTSD is this person has another feeling....was that my nightmare or was that reality? Did that really happen?
And so my nightmare, or story, begins......
I am playing with some toys in the living room with a friend of mine. My mom's boyfriend is there, with one of his friends, and they are high from drugs. They are making fun of our toys and I am laughing at the men because they are funny when they are high, which is a normality in my life. After a while, I can "sense" they are getting aggravated with my toys and my friend and I take them into my room. We are playing in there, for how long I am unsure.
My mom's boyfriend comes busting into my room, his friend is gone I notice, and he is mean now, no longer funny. I'm a little frightened and try not to show my fear. I stand up to him. Little 'ole me... He is aggravated I am still playing with those stupid toys. "They won't stop talking and repeating themselves", he says. I get in his face and remind him, "you thought they were funny earlier." (at some point my friend leaves...I look for her and she is gone)
"Well, now I don't. Are you talking back to me?"
"When I want to play, you don't want me to." (again trying to stand firm and not show fear to my bully)
He snatches a few of the toys from me and throws them out.
I take the few I have left and I make them begin the noise he hates, all at one time, all together; so, that it aggravates him off. "I hate you," I think to myself.
He grabs the toys that are making the noises and yells, "You did that on purpose you little bitch."
"Yes, I did!", I yell back and slam my room door.
I hear stomping and I know, "I messed up....."
He busts in my door and begins to hit me. No, not HIT me, BEAT me. Pushing, shoving, fists, open hands, whatever will hurt.
I scream, "I'm calling the police!"
He throws me a phone, "Go ahead...."
I pick up the phone, dial a number, and through tears, and a quivering voice, I tell what happened and that I am afraid for my life.
He snatches the phone from me, talks to the person on the line, and admits what he has done.
"Someone is on the way to help ME," I think.
"You better get out of here. They are coming and they are going to arrest you," I yell.
He laughs and goes outside to get in his vehicle.
From my window I can see what he is doing. He is NOT leaving!! He does NOT seem scared!!! Why won't he go away!!!
The the front door opens, my SAVIOR from the phone call is here....my mom.
She comes in and begins, "What did you do? Why is he mad? What have you done to upset him?"
He must have seen her come in because he comes back inside the house.
I run to the door to try and block him. I'm too little; it doesn't work.
He laughs. "The little bitch deserved this. She doesn't listen. You don't know how to raise a child." He starts in on my mom.
I begin to scream, "I'm calling the police. you will do to jail."
He looks at me with glaring eyes...."You WILL NOT call the police. If you do, bad things will happen to everyone."
He is furious, angry.
I am scared and cowering.
He goes outside; my mom and I stand at my window and watch him. He is getting tools.
He comes back to the front door and yells, "I'm leaving. I'll be back. There better not be any police here when I get back. And DON'T shut this front door. Don't you even think about locking me out."
Then he leaves.
I run to the front door to shut it and lock him out but I get a shock.....the door has been taken off it's hinges. I can't do anything to the door. It is impossible to shut the door!
I begin to shake and yell for my mom, "He took the door off the hinges. We can't shut it. He will come back and hurt us."
"Shut up," she yells. "It will be fine. He will calm down. Just go to your room. I'll clean up the mess."
I can't accept that!! I run out of the house, whimpering, crying, fearing for my life.
"When he comes back," I think to myself, "I will die. He will kill me."
I wake up....quivering, whimpering, scared, afraid. I am unsure where I am. I am sure someone is about to come into my room and "get me". Feelings are taking over....this is where my THINKING vs FEELINGS needs to happen.
I look around the room. I tell myself to calm down. I am ok. I am safe. I am in my own home. I am the only adult in the home. I am an adult. No one can hurt me. I can take care of myself.
"Get up!!" I tell myself. "Walk around. Identify your present situation."
The clock says it's early but I can't lay back down. I must get up and face any fear. If I lay back down, FEELINGS will take over.
I get up. I walk downstairs. I make a cup of coffee. I turn on lights. I turn on the TV.
"Was this just a nightmare or was this reality that I am remembering via dream?" PTSD thought...
I may never know....
Jaz
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