New Year

Irony, I ran this blog through the “ai assistant” that WordPress has. I’m not impressed.

Nightmares

The nightmares are back.

I had gotten rid of them. I had started to forget and to heal. The nightmares that woke me up at night and stole what little peace I ever had.

She – throwing open my door to throw my school books and homework at me at o’dark early. She – screaming at me that I did something wrong, whatever it was that was wrong. She – who blamed my comic books on my “lack of literacy” and being “behind my peers” when all I really needed was glasses. She – who broke brushes and spoons over my arse for failing grades. She – for not obeying her and giving her my most precious bit of my life and love for her to raise as a “second chance” at being a mother. She – screaming at me from across a conference room table, with social workers looking at her with amazement and realizing that I was right – she was the abuser and would destroy a second, innocent child in order to punish the other parent.

Teachers – who humiliated and demeaned me when I was needing glasses. Teachers that punished me for being me. Teachers that nearly stole my desire to learn. Especially the teachers who humiliated me over my mother’s religion’s New Year which happened in March. I still had to write out resolutions every year, so I wrote out the same one: I resolve to not make another resolution. The teachers hated that and I would get punished for it.

He… with his hands around my neck and my world going grey. I still don’t remember what I did to anger him so much. I didn’t even know that I was carrying his tiny fetus then. Three months later, I was fighting for my life and both of us nearly lost our lives together.

The next he pressing me down with his father’s help to pry my preciousness out of my arms, his father’s skinny assed leg strangling me. He had kept me unable to work or do anything other than to keep house for him. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. I wasn’t allowed to find a job, because he did not want to take care of his child at all. Then he denied the child was his – joke’s on him. The child was most definitely his.

Him… and all the times he set me up and my sheer force of will kept me going. All the games. Moving when and where he wanted to, even if it meant destroying my mental health. Refusing to get me medical treatment when I could have died. Or was injured. Refusing to back me about my injury that did even more permanent damage to my back. Him, with his “good for the gander, but the goose better not” rules. Him… laughing that I was going to develop diabetes.

The Joke’s on Him

I always had it.

The testing for it has gotten better since the 1980’s, and my test results then would have labelled me as a diabetic if they were looking for more than just juvenile diabetes. Lada, Mody 1-12 (12????) Type 2, Type 3, Type 3c… I’ve always had it, and injuries to my body and organs have not helped.

Him…he is a pro at manipulating the narrative so that he’s the victor. He’s the winner. He’s the one that saved everyone. Yah, he got exactly what he wanted and I will be feeling the backlash of it for the rest of my life.

Then the nightmares with her start again as I shake and shake and shake.

She’s dead. She can’t hurt me. Yah, he won, too.

Except, I won.

I am alive.

I am breathing.

And that pisses off the people who tried to hurt me the most – I am alive!

I Am Alive!

It is the last day of yet another year from hell, and we have succeeded in our goals in spite of the sabotage done to my psyche.

In a few hours, I will be DJing New Year’s Eve celebrations.  I have two sets tomorrow, one that starts at noon and goes for four hours, and the other that ends the night and will be at least two hours or more.

As I prepare for the New Year, all I can think about is the people who have formed a tight circle around me to be my helpers, my confidants, my family of choice, both virtual and in real life. Cyn, Mik, QWa, Ris, Tori, Sul, Kaly, Ava, O, V, A, C, all the different Kittys, and so many others I but most importantly, the red tiger and the guard. What those last two have become…. I don’t have the words. They are making me a better DJ and so much more.

The tiger and the guard invited me onto their Friday show. It has been 3 weeks of chaotic fun. It was Ris’ idea. Black Ort was all for it.

I survived the first week. “Don’t scare off the newbie.”

“You sound like you’ve been doing this forever.”

“Yah, you’re staying with us.”

Instead of looking at hate and pain, I am looking forward to a year of craziness on Friday nights, a year of djing and having fun doing it. I’m looking forward to signing up for Second Life’s 21st Birthday. 50 more Black Ort’s Master’s Round Table and the Ort Cloud on the Whip, and an untold amount of sets I run. I’m looking forward to running my “guess the theme” contest at other sims and events, and, more specifically, about being back with one of my favourite hosts at a private club.

I might never have known a day of peace, nor a day without pain in years, but I am looking forward to new horizons, new choices, new decisions, and other paths my life will take.

I didn’t see my life go this way 5 years ago. 3 years ago, it was a possibility, but I had to heal by ignoring the hate spewed towards me. Maybe one day, the hate and anger will stop. As the movie said repeatedly, “from a certain point of view” they are justified in being angry at me. There is always more than one point of view.

From my point of view, I am dancing in the pale moonlight and the future looks so bright, I gotta wear shades!

I should add that song to my playlist for tomorrow! That’s a great idea!