Poem to survivor of sexual assault

I searched for words to tell you what not to feel

I searched for words to tell you how to feel

I searched and searched then realized I could tell you a million words

But I did not experience your time and place

I did have my own, so I do know the place

But there are no words to express some experiences

In the end, results are always the same

Violated, hard to trust, anger that comes from know where

In time it will get easier the fear will subside

A day will come, and you will feel at peace again.

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When your child dies, Oh how I miss her

I guess this is how I have dealt with my daughter's death on her birthday and the day she left.

 I do have sad times but mostly I can laugh at the little stupid things that Kathy and I would laugh at. I talk to her and express how she would have enjoyed the experience with me. Then we laugh together, she hears me that's all that matters. I don't celebrate her death or birthday because she wouldn't want me to glorify her death. Instead, we talk every day, just like when she was alive.
I am selfish I don't want to share my special time I have with her of a spiritual nature.

I was by myself when I gave birth to her at 15, there was no family just hospital staff. When she went to a better place for her, not me, it was only her and I. No family, no friends, just my daughter and I. Yes I am crying as I write this, just because I don't often express my pain of losing my best friend doesn't mean it hurts less, it means I am selfish about all the special times we had. RIP Kathryn Martin

Poor me day LOL

She has been trying so hard and getting nowhere.
Tired can't even begin to describe her life.
Denise and her pets surviving the winter until her paintings and prints sell. She is working very hard to get the word out about her paintings.

Sincerely love and blessings,
Matilda and Teddy

My hair fell out for 6 months afterwards

Things had been very good for a month feeling the love for him again. No fearing him so my guard was coming down. Got inside the house and he went to his laptop and I was watching TV.
I looked over at him and he was very deep in concentration on whatever it was he was doing. He liked playing games but this was different. When I asked him what he was doing he searched for words. First red flag.
I walked over to him and he closed the laptop. Second red flag. My senses started to come alive, knew he was up to something, only could be no good.
I waited until he went into the bathroom to take a shower when I opened his computer and checked out his history. Sure enough, he had been talking with Valerie. The other woman, He came out of the bathroom and said he was going out for a while he needed some time alone.

I told him I knew he was going to Valerie's. Of course, he denied it.

Told him he may as well take his clothes and leave the house key. He refused and left anyway without anything.

The next day he came back I just ignored him. He went upstairs and was on the computer.
He came down a few hours later and started an argument with me. He tells me that I don't care about him and what he wants. I told him to go back to Valerie since she seems to be better for him. I just wanted him to leave for good. Then he says "No I love you, not her".
I told him you cannot have us both so you may as well go live with her.
The anger in his voice and the look on his face told me it was going to be a long night.

He pushed me down on the love seat and straddled me so I couldn't get away. How ironic he pins me to the love seat.
He is yelling at me and accusing me of cheating. Call the kettle black. Between choking me with both of his hands until I am blacking out. Then pulling my hair on both sides of my head, it felt like I was being scalped.  After this point, I don't remember what happened for the rest of the night. The mind can take only so much before it blocks out the unbearable pain that is being afflicted on one's self.
All I know is that for days afterward it was a blur, to this day I do not remember what he did to me after that point. It is more than likely why it is taking me forever to write. My subconscious refuses to let me in.
That maybe a good thing.