I’m so so fucking exhausted! My mind is so full of worries and the anxiety has been brutal! It’s been awhile since I sat in the shower with rain on my back curled up like a poppel trying to re connect with myself as the fears, flash backs and pain becomes way too much at times. Until the water runs cold, doing my breathing, doing the therapy wor… working all the logic I know, I’m so logical but that’s clouded by the crippling anxiety, it’s exhausting. Yawn!

I know why. My sons is back to school and this irrational repetitive record of possibilities paralyze me in terror. My son has autism spectrum disorder and the realities of this terrify me. What if?

What if he gets away from his worker? He’s what they call a runner. The school had to place locks and alarms on the doors, he just runs when something is loud, his auditory sensitivities are painful.

What if he gets hurt? Oh in every way possible he just can’t learn to be safe, he just does and that’s scary.

What if he’s bullied? In our world a lame chicken in a hen house gets pecked to death. We are a society that unique is seen as a freak. My son has this amazing light within him, he feels heart first & he does not understand mean. I fear his heart will always feel broken like mine. I live in constant guilt that my son may be like me. What if he is, how could I pass that on?

What if my biggest most gut wrenching core fear presents itself? What if he becomes the focus of child predators? The monsters in flesh suits. What if? He’s so innocent, so sweet, so volunerable, so so innocent. How do I teach and make a child of 5 aware of these creeps that lurk amongst us. I know I will kill someone. I’ve kept him with me no sitters, no daycare, no family visits I’ve been with him every single moment until school started last year. I know for certain he’s ok. Now I wait all day for the phone call. What if?

On and on and on… my tummy is in a cramp and the diarrhea is so painful. I have a awful breakout going on, ulcers in my mouth, a headache from sleepless night from me pacing the night away worrying about him leaving again in the morning. Irrational thinking.


Since coming forward and entering trauma therapy accepting to move forward I’ve been flooded with sifusting memories and the guilt I carry for being a sick predator myself. Yes I really feel guilt over the trauma I was s victim off yet I own the filth as my own.

I’ve been unpacking safely yet the filth still feels imprinted on my identity. Nothing like who I am.


My mother has been chewing at my eyelids.


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