Just stay out of sight you’ll be fine you’ll be safe!

Ella and I got back from Australia the city was where we left it and we knew we were home when we saw shea stadium NO IT’S NOT CITIFIELD UNLESS YOU’RE A PLEBE OR A TOURIST we got home to three cats who love us and our comfortable bed and slept off the jet lag from 20 hours travel we slept 12 hours. The first night a bomb could have gone off we still would have slept.
Tonight Ella and I got to bed at midnight because were picking zeus at 10.45 am at grand central station well that was the plan ,there’s an old saying “how do you make god laugh? you tell him your plans! There was one more thing waiting but it never shows up till I want sleep, till I am in that “so tired “place it was my ghosts my memories, my monsters every time I closed my eyes I was 3,4,5, 10 all different ages the common denominator was the monster on my back my front coming down the hall in my bed or dragging me from behind the coats with his massive hands over my mouth to muffle my terrified screams.
The funny thing about that is the largest hands in the world do not muffle screams in your mind and your soul you see normal screams if there is such a thing end they’re loud their shrill they show your pain but you see they end, the ones in your soul they never end their quiet sometimes but never for long.

On the plane to kill the boredom I watched the national geographic channel on line in the air and a woman who studied “terrifying” storms and so called acts of god said to stand in a doorway to get in the bathtub to stay in a solid cement or stone structure and do not move to the horrifying sounds stop.

I live in an area of queens where a great number of elderly holocaust survivors live many members of Ellas own family amongst them, they were told the same thing when the nazi’s came for them “hide in the cellar, the attic, the barn, the fields or the forrest just hide” but yet they still came. They still took everyone and so few ever came back, the amazing men and women I meet every day still at over 90 awake sweating and screaming from their ghosts.
My family members were in most of the wars, from world war 2 to vietnam and they still wake screaming. In the horrors of your mind when you remember that moment when you were molested, or when you pulled the trigger on someone you never met from a country you never heard of and they died because someone further up the food chain with more stripes and clusters than you said they were the enemy you did nothing wrong it was war but in your heart you broke every sacred thing you were ever taught. Their eyes screaming never leave you, and they’re biggest and brightest and loudest when the world is darkest because thats when your soul remembers.
When you are a civillian and your monster wasn’t a nazi or VC or taliban, and it is your brother or father or priest or rabbi or coach they scream just as loud and they too scream why? and your soul can’t forget.
There are no doorways or bathtubs or shelters in your heart or your mind or your soul, so like I am doing now at 5.07 am you get up, you wake up and you stay up because the thought of what might be waiting when you close your eyes is just too scary to think about.
In the light of day I know who my monster is and where he is, he is a old fat disabled pig 12,900 kilometres across the pacific in my home town of Adelaide South Australia who has been married more times than most can count because one by one each wife discovers their having victims with him not children, fresh meat for his perverted tastes and even in a wheelchair as i am today I could take him with just my upper body any day of the week, but in my dark hours I’m five and hiding and he’s young strong huge and I’m his.

I know love and have a beautiful women to wake up next to, and when I wake screaming she holds me till I stop and on the rare occassions I can till I fall asleep. Tonight is not one of those nights, so were catching up on tv shows recorded while were away and she is cleaning and I’ll make breakfast shortly and when the sun comes up we’ll head to manhattan to get my boy zeus, as usual we do anything but talk about the terrors.

There are groups and for some they work, there are online support groups and maybe they work too? I wish all who live with the monsters in the dark hours that you’re still here tomorrow because so many won’t be, Here’s a Quick quiz what is 21 times 7 plus 14? don’t know? it’s the number of returned veterans and incountry fighting soldiers just from America alone who choose to take their own lives every week because the monsters.
The dark times, the memories the eyes and faces of those who they killed in battle or of their best friend the soldier who fought beside them that never made it home. Please don’t be a number tomorrow, I will be up when it’s still dark when it’s darkest for you message me, reply to my blog email me or someone else but for christs sake just be here tomorrow don’t let the bastards win.
Take it from me I have been there with the sharp blade the bottle of pills in the car doing a hundred and at the last moment I chose life do yourself a favor do those who love you a favor choose it too.

Author: disabledaccessdenied

I am a disabled woman who through no fault of my own has wheels under my ass. I rely on the decency and common sense of local, state and federal goverments, as well as the retail community to abide by the disabled access laws and provide adequate ramps, disabled toilets, and not use them as store rooms or broom closets. This blog exists to find the offenders and out them, inform them, and report them if necessary and shame them into doing the right thing when all else fails.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s