After the wall... the rabbit hole. Not. I can't let it. And I don't want to be robo-woman, either. At least not for large blocks of time. I woke up from a nightmare Thursday morning. It was one of those awful sexual ones. I woke up with the physical pain. It was really bad. I'm not sure what to do. I emailed the therapist and I have an extra appointment Monday, but right now I'm a little drunk. Yes, I have resorted to drugging the little girl with the beer so she can't run wild through my head while I sleep. That's what it's about you know. And lest anyone poo poo the alcohol, it's no different than psyche drugs. They are all meant to K.O. the child so the adult can live in fake peace. Only this way it's not an around-the-clock drugging mandated by societal bullshit which I will never EVER cater to. Maybe I will get to work on a happy medium between the world of the adult and that of the child. I don't know. We'll see. Maybe that is what the extra appointment will be about. I know what it won't be about. It won't be about bubble baths and scented candles or someone's going to go ballistic on a bunch of fake pollyanna horseshit. When's the last time a bath or a candle could truly comfort someone who is reliving a rape? The honest answer is NEVER. I don't care what anybody says - that is like offering someone a bandaid for a sucking chest wound. So then... what to do? I WILL find out and it won't be a load of bull. That much I can assure you.

And lest anyone take offense about the psyche drug crack - yes, I really mean it. However I am ACUTELY aware that sometimes it's also about shielding one's self from unbearable horror (as evidenced by the beer). For me it is not as much about the horror of betrayal. Yes, I think that must play some kind of role, but there's much more. It's about the actual horror of what happened to me. It's about not having had power or control. It's about having been helpless and enduring terrible things in a small human body that experienced great horror and physical pain. And all in the confused and frightened mind and spirit of a little child who had no understanding or reference points. She had nothing but horror. Pain and horror. And it pisses me off like you wouldn't believe. That's why I've decided if I ever become horribly ill - I'm taking certain people out with me. Those people know who they are even better than I do. And they should all be on their knees praying for my continued good health. Pray, motherfuckers, pray, you lying sacks of shit. Spineless and hypocritical cowards better hope I go out in a very sudden manner, because they will suffer unfathomable horrors if I don't. And you can take that one to the bank (just make sure the bank is solvent first - you have to read the fine print on the earnings reports and balance sheets instead of listening to the government spin).