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The beginning
When I was five years old my life took a turn of unexpected changes, but also changes that was very much unwanted. I am the youngest of six siblings, and what most would describe as the black sheep of the family. So one morning as the sun begins to rise, and I can hear the dogs next door to us barking, me and my other three siblings begins to wake up and start our morning off. I remember that morning as if it was yesterday, because I remember having on my long pink “Berenstain Bear” shirt on, and “Dora The Explore” was what I began watching on TV. Two of my other siblings was in the front room playing cards, and my second oldest brother was in his back room, that was adjacent to mines and my third oldest brother. Meanwhile, I was sitting in my bed eating a bowl of “lucky charms, watching tv and my second oldest sister , and third oldest brother comes to ask me, “if I wanted to play cards with?” I proceed to tell them no, and started back watching tv. However, a few minutes later, my third oldest brother walks out of his bedroom and asks, “sweetie come help me clean the dog crap up out my room”, I proceed to say yes, and put away my cearl so that I could go help him. Once getting in the room, the sound of the door closing filled my ears, and the smell of dog crap on the floor burned my noise, because it was so loud. And as I began to bend down and start to clean, my brothers hand is wrapped tightly around my neck and mouth. But before I could scream or move, I was forced to the edge of his bed. Where my mouth was covered with his big sweaty hands, and his hot breath touching my face. And as my eyes began to be open so big, filled with tears that seemed as if they never stopped, his mouth began to open and with his voice his mouth spoke, “if you tell I will kill you, and tell mama that you wanted it.” And in that moment I began to feel my heart beating as if I ran a marathon, but my body was shaking even faster because I was confused on what I had done wrong, or what was going to happen next. So, I proceed to close my eyes and begin to count to ten in my head, but right before I got to four, I began to feel my brothers big sweaty hands rubbing up my leg and in that moment I tried to fight back. But even with every push, he still didn’t move. So, now with his body that stemmed as if it was eight times my size and ten times my height, was completely on top of me. All I could think was if he removes his hand from my mouth, I will scream but seemed like the more I hoped, the more it never happened. Then the teardrop of an eye I feel my brother’s hand underneath my long pink shirt and with all my froce, I began trying to kick, attach, or even bite his hand but still nothing was seeming to work. And that’s when I began to realize the more I moved, the tighter and heavier it seemed as if his hand and body has gotten. So, then in my head I tell myself, “just maybe if I don’t move or try to fight, then he will realize that he is scaring me, and decided to let me go. But still that never happened. And as I began to lay there, I decided to give up because I was only five and my strength was nowhere near as strong as his. I remember that after a couple seconds of laying still, I felt his long sweaty fingers pulling off my panties, as he began to touch my private area, my body became numb with every touch and my eyes continued to shed tears that soaked my face. And as bad as I wanted it to all be over, I couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning. However, as the time went by more and more things started to happen. But the only difference was that I began to feel a pain that I thought was never possible. A pain that that seem to be the worst of them all, was when I felt a certain discomfort of pressure that filed my body, and brought me pain from the inside out. And now as I am covered in my own tears and my body began to shake even faster. My eyes popped open, because the pain that I was feeling became to unbearable to keep them closed, and all I can see is my brother moving in an up and down motion on top of me. His eyes staring at me and his mouth making sounds, that I have never heard, aside from when I heard them on tv. This pain and motion seemed to had been lasting for forever, and the end wasn’t nowhere close. The time had seemed to be going by so slow, because it felt like I was in his room for forever. And that’s when out of nowhere my brother begins to make one last noise, and in that moment the nightmare that I has been trying to escape from was finally over. And as it ended, I began to feel a sense of emptiness, but in that moment remembering that his hand was no longer on my mouth, so, as I grasp for air and his body was gone, I suddenly felt so much lighter. But then, his mouth began to speak, and he says to me, “ get out and don’t forget about what I said.” And as I remember thinking that I wanted to run, the pain was so strong, and the more it hurts the weaker I became. Then as I stumbled over trying to get out, my tears had done soaked my shirt, and as I looked down I see boood rubbing down my legs to my feet. I was so scared, and I knew I had to tell my other siblings, but only to find out, as my hand reached to open the rusty door knob on his door, that they were standing right there as if they were waitting for me. In my head, I was wondering, “ why didn’t they try to help me, but as I tried to open my mouth and speak, my second oldest sister said to me, “ it’s going to be okay.” But as my eyes looked at them, and there’s looked back at me, all I could see is the looks on their faces as if I was a complete stranger. Then in a blink of an eye, my soaked ears was crowded by the sound of rubbing water, and not remembering so much of how, my bloody legs and feet was covered in warm water and my body was wet all over. I had found myself staring at the title covered wall, realizing that I was in the bathroom, right next to who I thought was my brothers room. I stared at that was for ten painful long minutes, and even though they were looking at me, in my head I remembered thinking to myself, “when mama gets home, everything will be okay.” However, when night came the woman for who I thought was my processor had arrived home, but still nothing was to be done. All I kept replaying in my head was the sound of my mother calling me a “lair and telling me everything was going to be okay.” And as she continued to say, “kids have a wild imagination”, I caught myself thinking, but only to realize this was not some crazy story of mine, and I knew that what I had encountered and the pain I was feeling was real. Nevertheless, what my mother had done was not what I had expected, and then in an instance, my mother’s soft sweet voice croweded my ears, telling me to “lie down my child.” And in that moment all I could think, was what is about to happen to me now. And as my eyes followed her body, I remembered seeing her hand reach for the grease with the blue top, that’s now called “petroleum jelly”, and as she opened it, I began to feel her hands rub my private area, and then off to bed I went. As i got to my bed, I remembered thinking to myself that I was no longer a child that knew what it felt like to be safe, but I had just became a child that now knew what it felt like to be lost and unprotected. I remember laying their thinking that whole night away, asking myself why me? And what will tomorrow bring me? But after laying their silently crying myself to sleep, I somehow drifted into a deep sleep where still until this day, I remember dreaming of a dog name Maui. In my dream I was trying to grab him, but he was running to fast for me. And after a couple minutes everything in my dream had went black, and it was as If I heard my own voice telling me to run, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t move. And it felt as if I was dreaming with my eyes open because I felt just as scared as I did then, just as I did when I was awake. But finally morning had finally came and I just knew that today was going to be a better day. But I guess that’s the funny part about the mind, nothing in that day happened the way it did in my head. That had seemed to be moving so fast, and once again I was trapped in that room with nothing left to do but cry and try my very best to breathe. This nightmare had seemed to be one that never needed, and I myself was the main lost, broken, scared, and hurt character. However, life around me did seem to go on as normal, as if nothing ever happened. But the best day of my life was when I had turned seven years, and my abuser was fourteen. Why? Because he had done got sent off to the juvenile detention center, and in that moment I remembered feeling a sense of relief as if the heavy shoes I was wearing, was no longer mines to wear. So, I began to feel free, and thought to myself, you have to try and push past this tragedy, because what was taken from you will be things that you shall never get back. And as the years went by, my life became crazier but really got crazy when I began to reach my preteen years. My mother who wasn’t my protector then, had turned into the demon that began to abuse me physically, and it left me feeling as if she had done picked up where he (my brother) left off. I remember feeling a piece of myself falling off with every hit that my mother had given me. I was only a preteen, and as many of would say I was child, but I was being beaten as if I committed a dangerous crime like the ones you see in TV, or hear about on the news. The things that I went through in my young and adult life, was not correct and I don’t and will never wish it upon my worst enemy. In closing, I am a young twenty-two year old African American that has made it through a storm with little to no direction. But through it all my life tragedies have transformed me into a strong, passionate, faithful, and determined young lady. The words that describe me is vying what many would think or say. But to me those words are interchangeable, compresses, and transformed. So, as you all read my story, I hope you all can see my passion,and realize what I endured led me to write my book. And although my journey has just begun, I have enough faith to know that I will make it and I will share my story and stories with the world. It brings me great honor to share part of my story with you all, and I hope it brings you just as much honor as your began to read it.
By margaret foster5 years ago in Psyche
The Attack
I am in the grocery store doing my regular shopping when it happens. I can feel it coming. There is no large fanfare or noise or even a whoosh. It is a slow build. It starts small most of the time. A little catch in my breath that makes my lungs contract quickly. Then it feels as if they forget how to work even though I can feel that they are just fine. Fine enough that is. A full, deep breath isn’t going to happen anytime soon without a lot of concentration and effort. Then the tingles start. They are spotty at first. A finger twitches then maybe a shoulder. Small enough that no one around me notices. They don’t always happen but they feel as if they may explode all over my body and throw me to the ground in convulsing heap. So, I move. I walk, but it isn’t my normal walk because at this point that is nearly impossible. I need to concentrate on this too. Move my foot. Good. Now the other one. Doing fine. No, the feet are supposed to come up off the ground. No looking like Frankenstein’s monster. No dragging the feet or shuffling. Oh, wait, stop walking. Am I still breathing? Yes? Good. Okay back to walking. What is my wrist doing? Why is it twitching my hand? Ok, the hands are under control. Back to the walking. Slow careful steps and look normal. Oh no. The next phase is here. Close the mouth. Close the mouth! Don’t let what is in your head get out. Keep the scream in! Bite the lips. That will work. Bite the lips but remember to breathe. The screams are in my head wanting to get out. I won’t let them so they send a noise to my ears instead. Now I feel distant from everything around me because I don’t hear any of it. I need to focus. Frozen foods. Good choice. Read labels. Walk slowly. Remember to breathe. Reading labels is a good thing. Make my mind concentrate on something other than the massive desire to scream. Doing good. Oh no. No not that. Please not that. Stop. Close eyes for a second and force myself to take a deep slow breath. Exhale out of the mouth in a slow steady even exhale. Good that stopped them. The tears try to sneak out all the time. They steal the breath and hide in the screams and attempt to sneak past when I am concentrating on the body. Sometimes I let them run free. But that is in the car or at home. Never in public. I can let the screams out when I am alone as well. And the twitches. I can shudder and shake and throw my hands around as much as I please in my own home. I can cry till my eyes are red and scream into pillows or while standing in the shower. But in public none of that is allowed. I won’t allow it. There are the looks. The stares. The sidelong glances. The mothers hurrying their children away from the lady who is acting odd. Now I am in the checkout line. I shift my feet and act impatient but it really is just keeping me from throwing my hands up in the air and running up and down the aisles. The idea of running wildly about waving my arms and screaming at the top of my lungs sounds so appealing that It makes me smile. Then there is that part of my brain that reminds me I cannot do that. So, I shift to the other foot and take a slow deep breath. I am standing in one place so I must do something to keep calm. Focus on something other than what I am feeling. No labels to read here. Good to know frozen food labels work. I have used the soup aisle in the past as well. The numbers game! That will do. Counting backwards from one hundred by threes. Ok, begin. Darn, I can’t do that yet. It is my turn to check out. Smile, nod an don’t throw the food. Place it smoothly and steadily on the conveyor belt. Can’t make eye contact or I may lose my concentration. Pay, smile and thank the cashier. Pick up my groceries. Got ahold of the bags? Yes, good. Now make it to the exit. Don’t run. Slow even steps but not too slow. Don’t swing the bags. Good. Out of the store. Begin the numbers game again. Walk to the car. Made it pretty far through the countdown. I may need to come up with another trick. Groceries in car. Close door, start car. OK, one indulgence. A major shudder is released and my shoulders shake and a noise comes out of my mouth. Not sure what to call the noise. Somewhere between a moan and a scream. That’s better. Safe to drive. I can concentrate to get home. It’s beginning to ease up now anyway. I think I will be ok shortly after I get home. Then I will be fine. Fine until the next one. Fine until I feel it coming on again. Fine until the next anxiety attack.
By Traci E. Langston5 years ago in Psyche
Symptoms of Clonazepam Withdrawal
Symptoms of Clonazepam withdrawal can be a big problem when a person is trying to quit using this drug. While there are many people who have found success in quitting and not having to deal with any of the effects of withdrawal, there are others that have tried to quit and ended up feeling more sick than ever before.
By Justin Griffith5 years ago in Psyche
ANDY
September 29, 1972, at precisely 4 am, A beautiful blue eyed baby boy was born. The universe welcomed this baby with open arms, all the while gently whispering through the wind to the newborn child that he was destined for greatness. However, little did this baby know the struggle and abuse he would go through to attain the excellence the universe had planned for him.
By Andy Gaulin5 years ago in Psyche
Why do the best of people let drugs take over their lives?
06/19/2020 Why have the best of people let drugs taken over their life? This topic is something that means a lot to me and it’s something I want people who don’t know that much about it, gain some knowledge or even just have some empathy for the ones struggling around them. Drugs are the DEVIL 100% and I had to learn this the hard way without having someone teach me. The ones I love the most are going through this battle or they have let it completely taken over their life which has resulted in death. 2 of the most beloved people to me have died because of this issue that the whole world is dealing with.
By cheyenne n linthacum5 years ago in Psyche
Options and Choices
This isn’t so much as a dyspraxia thing, as it is a human thing, but I feel that knowing we have options and choices gives us all, including dyspraxics, a chance to build our confidence, because god knows people don’t understand us and we think are being difficult for the sake of being difficult.
By simon witney5 years ago in Psyche
11/25/16 Black Friday
November 25, 2016-Black Friday Douglas K R David I’ll never forget the couple of weeks leading up to my incarceration in the New Jersey Department of Corrections. Much and more occurred in those few weeks leading up to my demise. There were many precipitating factors that led to my fall but the day when all was truly lost was a cold fall night in November. Jason and I were in the dark bedroom when we learned that Hillary lost and that our 45th President would be Donald Trump, a reality TV star, and up jumped politician who hijacked the Republican party. I wept and Jason held me, something broke inside of me that night. No longer could I support Hillary and my purpose ceased. Drugs beckoned and I ran to their familiar siren call. I was personally defeated, too, on that day and I quit taking my medications and relapsed. The benefits of my psych meds ended and the old me came back in full strength. There was no slow progression or starting light as I know no moderation. It was all or nothing and I dove in head-first. Shortly thereafter all fell apart in earnest on November 25, 2016. I lost my freedom. It was the day called “Black Friday,” the day after Thanksgiving. I committed a horrible crime that I’ll never forget or forgive myself for. The next thing I knew I was watching Donald’s inauguration in a county issued Jumpsuit, orange foam shoes and behind bars.
By Douglas K R David5 years ago in Psyche
