I talked with the therapist. We talked about how much the old incident hurt me and how sometimes even something seemingly small like, 'Have you heard of DBT?' or 'Would you consider medication?' steps on that hurt place and brings the protector out spoiling for a fight. It makes him want to attack and destroy anything that looks or sounds even remotely disrespectful of my experience. We talked about the girls. The poor little one. Just between us bloggies, she has been in such a sad and scared state because she was afraid that Rambo and the teenage girl were going to rip her away from the man she knows as her mother. The same one who welcomed us all today even after all the venom that has been spewed. He said he doesn't dislike Rambo and he knows he only wants to protect me. This has not been a fun couple of days for me. I have been in hell. Last night I bailed out with a six pack of beer and woke up with a hell of a hangover. Summer sucks and having this emotional chaos around therapy has been very upsetting. I feel a little bit better after talking with the therapist and we will continue on Wednesday because I really need to do something to get some peace from the war that lives in my head.

Then I was worried about spending the evening alone in the house because the husband and the kids are out watching the damn Yankees beat up on our Rays. Last I heard it was 8-3 in the ninth inning (insert Bronx cheer here). I called the hub and he asked me if Aunt P had called me here at the house. She hadn't. Seems she called the cell looking for me and she sounded very upset. I called her. I was afraid she was going to tell me that Grampa had died, but he's okay. She said HE'S okay, but SHE is not. She was sleeping when I called and she wants to call me tomorrow. Poor thing. As much as she wishes certain things were untrue, they are not. And they keep finding us. Over and over and over. Our family sucks. I wish we both could have gone to some other family who would not have abused and tormented us to the brink of insanity.

Thanks, you guys. This blog must read like a very mixed up mess, but you all are right when you tell me I'm not alone. Thank you for showing up to remind me. You're good people.