An email from Seth set off alarming dreams because of his association with Tom, which pokes at other memories with Chet, Danny, and one other sibling never named. 4 siblings chose to attack me. The nightmare that came with the recurring ache for a home lingers causing nights of chaos unable to sleep.
“Do you have a tape measure?” the two guys asked.
Wanting to continue with my tasks, exasperated, I lied, “No.”
Hating to be anything but honest, (just like real life), I said, “Yes,” moving to get it.
They were both aroused, one coming close enough to feel it. I lashed out shouting.
The next morning I asked Samuel, “Did I cry out in the night or move suddenly?”
“No,” he said.
But I think I did just like the first attack by Chet as a child when he pinned me down causing a feeling of suffocation threatening my life. Lying still pretending sleep was the only way to survive. But it also allowed him to do just about anything he wanted.
Naomi Judd shot herself dead. Perhaps her repressed memories drove her to it. As the weight comes off, I feel closer to the repressed trauma of Danny violently raping me. I know it happened, but my mind still won’t allow it up, even at age 69.
Some might say I already lived through it, so I’ll be alright. I might once have said that too, but it’s not true. My child’s brain went somewhere, not knowing, not remembering. To remember would be to live it. How to bear it if it does?