After William’s death, his family, his first wife, my daughter and my ex-roommate I was hanging on by my hands . Then, not only did a bastard rape me, he bit me all over my body, broke my nose in two places, gave me something to remember him by, oh yeah and then my lovely daughter calls and tells me I’m lying. So now, I’m barely hanging on by a hangnail.
I went to a Rape Crisis Center today. The Clinician seemed genuine. She seemed like she not only wanted to help me with the rape but she wanted to help me get better. I pray that’s the case. I’m tired of being this person I don’t know. She’s mean and hateful. Cusses like a sailor. I don’t know her. William wouldn’t like her. I don’t know where she came from. I know I wished she’d leave.
I’ve been writing about William and me, it’s our story. It’s about 7 pages now. I was finally able to have someone read it that was there. Someone who would know if it was the truth or not. So, today was my truth. My friend, who actually has not talked to me since William died, answered me after reading my story. She said she believed what I wrote was the truth and now she had a very clear understanding of what happened when he died. She regretted staying away and she never thought his death was in any way my fault. She also said she prayed I kept my sanity for witnessing the whole thing. You just don’t realize or maybe you do, what it’s like to know something and believe it and to have people look at you like you’re crazy, until one day, one person says NO that’s exactly right! You might still be crazy, but maybe there’s hope.
Therapy starts Tuesday…