Hate...

Another trip to the doctor. Yet another specialist. Now I have to endure physical therapy for the next month; possibly longer. I've never heard of physical therapy for that part of the body ~ but I will do whatever it takes. I'll be going through 3 different therapies several times a week plus things I need to do at home.

I left the doctor's office doing my yoga breathing so that I didn't have a break down right in the middle of everyone. The anger and frustration kept trying to bubble over and all I really wanted to do was start punching something, someone, anything. I wanted to run through the halls screaming at the top of my lungs.

How is it that, yet again, I'm paying for what you chose to do to me when I was a child?


 
IT'S NOT FAIR!!


 
I'm so angry! Yes, I love you. But honestly, right at this moment, I hate you.

It's not fair that every day ~ EVERY DAY~ that goes by I deal with it in some way. A flashback, nightmare, my physical pain….something. Day in and day out. It will be with me the rest of my life.

You? You got a slap on your hand and go on living. Ignoring me and everything in between as if it (and I) never even existed. It makes me sick. You have no idea. None. I wish I could turn my back on it like you have. Like everyone else has. But I can't. Because it's built into every fiber of my being. Every cell of my body screams at me to deal with it and never lets me forget or run from it.


 
God forbid that I ever hurt either of my children in such horrific ways as you have and then turn my back on them and leave them all alone to deal with the mess I created. You want to keep professing God ~ fine ~ but don't speak so loudly when you haven't handled the business in your own yard.