"Its no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabokov
Dont stand, dont stand so
Dont stand so close to me"
That song. Over and over and over. Sting sings it again and again and again in my head. I can't get rid of it. Maybe I don't want to.
That song. I used to listen to it every day on the way to school. My little brother was in the car and never figured it out. We went to the same school and he never knew how tortured I was - how tortured I still am. The song still tortures me - reminds me of being tortured, but it also empowers me like it used to.
That line "Just like the old man in that book by Nabokov." That empowers me because in the book the old bastard dies, and that's all I want. I don't think his death would bring me any peace. I don't think the nightmares would stop. I don't think it would make going back to my hometown easier. The reminders of driving around for hours so no one would know where I was will still be there. They will always be there. The violent tantrums happened there. Being told I was wrong happened there. It wasn't until I left that people believed me. It wasn't until I left that I was able to help prevent it from happening to anyone else.
I'm afraid my PTSD may be coming back. I'm afraid the nightmares are getting worse. I'm afraid I may be victimized, preyed upon or otherwise hurt again. I don't know if I can handle another person using me or hurting me. There have been too many.
I liked when the dreams made sense. When I would dream I was being chased and hiding in the chem room I knew what it meant. When I would dream I was trying to get him fired I knew what it meant. Now that I'm dreaming that he's eating my pancakes and no matter what seat I move to at the table he keeps taking my pancakes, I have no idea what it means! What does that mean? Seriously. I have a major complaint to file with my sub-conscience. If I am going to have nightmares that worry me and upset me the entire next day I would like to know what they mean.
So maybe for a little while no one should be standing very close to me. At least not until I figure out what is going on with these pancakes.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
6 days ago