I started my Friday like any other day.
I looked for something to watch, or play in the background as I did my work on my computer.
I listen and watch the tv but never really get into what is playing because I am working and my main focus in on my computer.
I found something to watch, it was called “Evil Lives Here, Shadows of Death”.
I found it on the Discovery channel/app.
As I was listening to the show one episode in particular had more of my attention.
The “evil person” had used a baseball bat to kill someone and in order to make sure there were no witnesses they kill a mother and her two young children.
This reminded me of the crap in Vegas that happened with the guy getting beat with a bat in my apartment while I was being held in my bedroom, while they had my children in someone else’s home.
I didn’t know if they were going to harm my children or not. Nor did I know if I was going to get hurt.
Then being “kidnapped” as my daughter told me and taken to the guy’s mom’s home.
I don’t know if the mom knew what happened or if she knew why we were taken to her home.
This episode on Discovery just reminded me how lucky we were that they didn’t kill us.
I don’t know if they suddenly had morals and knew that killing us was wrong or not.
My daughter says putting the gun to my head in order to I guess scare me even more.
Was this divine luck? I don’t know how we got so lucky. Lucky that they didn’t either beat us or kill us.
They knew we knew of the things they had done.
The fact that the guy was his cousin I guess didn’t mean anything either.
I just don’t understand…
How did we get so lucky? How did we manage to still live after knowing all of the things they had done.
I am pretty sure we didn’t know everything but we knew enough that they felt we were a liability.
They knew that if we told anyone they could get in trouble.
I can tell you that the sounds of the bat hitting the guys skull lives in my head.
The screams. The blood.
I don’t know how the guy lived after being beaten as much as he was.
He was extremely lucky.
I bet he had a TBI.
I sometimes wake up to the vivid visions of being held in my bedroom while they beat the guy.
It’s like the sounds and visions are burnt in my brain.
I can feel the sounds, just like I feel the sounds of being beaten by my kids bio father/sperm donor.
I may not remember everything but sometimes I feel lucky that I don’t remember it.
Yet on the flip side of that I can’t remember a lot of the good times in my life.
The day I got married is one of them.
I just don’t understand why I am unable to remember them.
Is there some form of therapy that could help me remember?
Or is this something I should leave alone because my body is trying to protect me from those bad memories?
I don’t know… I just know it’s burnt in like words etched in stone.