And Now Some PTSD-Related Swearing at Easter

ETA: I’m quite sorry about the existence of this post, but I believe that BAHLEETION mostly makes one looks stupider, so it remains with this ETA. See this post for more details.

I am going to take the name of Easter in vain. If this would offend you, please read this post no further.

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Fuck you, Easter. Fuck you to all seven hells. Fuck you for bringing back horrible intrusive feelings at night. I never knew what the fuck my father was thinking on these holidays.

There are actually a lot of times at night when I try to envision a goddamned safe place but sometimes it doesn’t fucking work. Like tonight. Because I got to bed and even with the wedge I remember him storming in randomly and screaming about how we never did anything right during this holiday either. All the goddamned painting of fucking eggs and baskets and egg hunts inside the shitty apartment and not being able to escape his random violent tantrums….

Thanks to the Ambien and general exhaustion I cannot distract myself with games or writing. Yes I have taken a Xanax. Hopefully it works. I feel light-headed. Xanax 2 may come along in a bit.

God damn it, I don’t know how to feel safe. Nowhere is safe.

Oh well. Mostly this just means I’m curled up under blankets trying not to think. I’m not crying, I just feel dead inside except for the fear.

Isn’t this boring? Same old pattern. Same old reactions like an endless cycle.

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