Jenny Strikes Again

The hub woke up and told me of a dream he had. He was squatting in a mansion (our marriage) located in a terrible neighborhood (our baggage). The homeowners, who were from MY old hometown, were not in residence (dissociation, anyone?). He fixed the place up the best he could with the tools on the premises and then he parked his car in the empty eight-car garage (I suppose an eight-car would be good because there has to be room for everyone inside to have a place to park their vehicle). A neighbor lady on one side of the house kept showing up to bring him food (I feed him). The creepy people on the other side kept trying to break into the house (the others with their traumatic material). I felt very sad when he told me this dream. And then Jenny brought me this song. I was playing it when my husband burst in, looking quite stricken, and said, "OMG. You read my mind! That song was playing in my dream!" I feel sad. I love my husband, but I feel very sad because of what all the trauma has done to us. I do not believe that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What a handy slogan for abusers. Sometimes whatever doesn't kill you just strips away everything that might make you not want to be killed.

Fuck you, parents and other rapists. I hate you. I am going to fight for my relationship with my husband. You can't have him. He's MINE and I will fight you to the death for him. You bastards. I hate you all SO FUCKING MUCH. And you will get him away from me over my dead fucking body. Motherfuckers. Get away from him!! You can't have him!! You've taken enough and I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!