Monday, March 27, 2006
Not much sleep last night. The race ran a lot longer then I expected it to. I was disappointed how Tony dropped back through the field after having a great car through most of the race. Of course, I missed hearing about all the stuff that happened afterwards. I was chatting to a friend in Canada during, and after the race. Kind of hard to concentrate on three windows, at the same time, in the middle of the night! Finally got to go to bed at 3.45am but didn't get to sleep until around 5am. Then I had to get up again with the dogs at 6.45am. I feel exhausted.
A programme on the TV today has bought some bad memories back. Its about a teenage girl who was murdered a few years ago She was attacked after her boyfriend left her at her gate after a night out. Her boyfriend looked in his rear view mirror as he drove off, and saw her going through the gate. She was attacked and murdered between her own front gate and her front door. I remember a similar incident when I was young. I had been dropped off by my friends and was walking down the drive to the riding school I taught at. A man came out of the stables and grabbed me. If it hadn't been for George, the watch goose (yes, that IS correct, he was a goose) I don't know what he would have done. But George hated strangers, and he kept pecking at him. Don't know if you have ever been pecked by a goose, but it hurts! Anyway, while George was pecking him, I pulled free and ran into the porch and locked the door. How easy would it have been for me to be hurt, or even killed. After a life of physical , sexual, and mental abuse that attack left me deeply disturbed for some time. Even now, I wont walk alone at night unless I have to. I will even ask my son to come and meet me from wherever I am, and get him to walk me home. If I have to go out, to the local shop, or the post box, I take at least one of the dogs.
The abuse I suffered as a child certainly made me into a different person. For a long time I thought the only way anyone male would like me would be if I offered myself on a plate. I still hate myself. I still believe, a little bit, that it must have been my fault that my step-father abused me. No matter how many people tell me it wasn't. That is the sort of damage that people suffer. Damage that cant be seen. I have such low self image that I cant believe people could possibly like me. They must keep me around for some other reason. Most people cant even begin to imagine how it feels to be so disgusted with yourself. How you can loathe yourself and wish, so much, that you weren't here to poison the earth. I am fat. I am ugly, I am stupid. But before you all start yelling anything, I have one thing that I never really thought I would have. I have people who care about me. Who dont care how I look, what I weigh, or anything like that. They like me for being me. And they are the people that help keep me sane.I may never have met some of them, I may NEVER meet some of them, but I know they care. And I care about them. Deeply. I just wish I had found these people before I wrecked my life. Thats something I have to live with. But I'll survive. With help, I will survive.
posted by tazfan at 8:15 pm comment(s) made:
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