I am safer alone

 

She sits at the kitchen table listening to the water drip, drip, drip. Her memory goes back to a time in life when she remembers how vulnerable she could be. He controlled everything, she feared to make choices, trained from childhood to be obedient. Sexual abuse started when she was 3.

 

Now at 44, the dripping from the faucet reminds her of a time long ago when he put his hand through the window. They are fighting over his infidelity.

He knocks her down then sits with his knees on her forearms. She can't move, terror red is all she sees. The blood he is dripping on her forehead is running into her eyes.

 

He says, "In Viet Nam, we use to terrorize our captives this way. It can get worse".

 

Crying, begging, rocking her head back and forth desperate to keep the blood from running into her eyes. It's causing her to see everything through a red haze. Blood dripped, splattered, ran down the walls. He left after that never to come back.

 

Crying, sobbing from the aftermath of abuse. She doesn't know what to clean first.

 

Drenched in blood my vision blurred, I remember it well. Rinsed my eyes out than wiped my face. Didn't figure I should change my clothes.

 

By the time I washed the blood from walls, ceiling, furniture, and the floor my clothes drenched with his diluted blood, I took off my clothes and threw them away. Standing in the shower sobbing until the water ran clear and cold. I got out of the shower a new woman.

 

Until the next time, I meet the new one to bring terror in my life.

Now at 62, I stay alone. After 3 relationships that brought me to the brink of death, I'm safer alone.

Words, Paint, Voice

A writer paints a picture with words,
A painter paints a story with paint,
But, a singer paints a story and a picture with their song. by Denise Fletcher

Woke up being beaten

Woke hours ago somebody was beating me with a club and throwing very hot water on me making my skin to burn. I was trying to get away my body froze up with stiffness, couldn't get out of the way of this violent attack.
Then I woke for real. Its was just a dream but the pain was real.
Just what it's like to have fibromyalgia.

Wean me off these drugs

Been a member of the Fibromyalgia English/Afrikaans quite some time and it helped me through some rough times. This past month I had enough of medication that just did not work. Told my doctor enough was enough, wean me off these drugs. It was tough. I survived the withdrawals. Less pain now, less stiffness, but thank goodness I am not being videotaped daily.

The mood swings from tears, anger, laughter, confusion, frustration and did develop high blood pressure now. I take aspirin and medical marijuana as needed, it does work. Not daily either. Just when the pain is intolerable. Now if I could just get the emotional fixed, but the pharmaceutical drugs has so many negative effects on me I would rather be known as the crazy lady who lives with 2 dogs, artist who paints pictures, and smokes pot.

My energy level skyrocketed from sleeping 14 hours a day and 10 hours of exhaustion to sleeping 6 hours a day and getting so much done that I had never dreamed possible again in my life. I was diagnosed 1996, symptoms started at least 10 years before. Saw many psychiatrists over that 10 years, no one knew what Fibro was. Had many family and friends giving me advice on exercise and diet. Even this past year had someone tell me I just needed to move more, did not respond to her skinny self (20+ years younger than me) with a husband and two sons to help her to do all the things I do not have help with. This is why I call Fibromyalgia the stupid disease, for the stupid things people say to us with the disease. They are not educated in the disease and chose not to understand the disease.