Fractured

Abuse emotional is not always sexual. My sexuality was used by an older half sister to convience my family of a filthy lie that because I was a home and never dated men.Didn’t come out until I was forty I abused and beat my mom.

It was a filthy lie.She harrassed by phone and in person my mom and me.People looked on becase my half sister master queen bee hoverer and Gaslighter.

Abuse is abuse.I was raped at seventeen.Said I didn’t date men.Made no difference.Scapegoated fifty-six years. Nothings worst then loniliness unless it is taken into consideration my lonliness is not my choice.

My work ethics like my moms.Being lame from being struck twice in my life by cars I move slow. Not snail slow Val slow. If I were dating and was asked if I wanted a ring I’d so no ‘Typewriter.’

Did you know they still make them I had a Brother it was a mode of typewriter. In 1985 I started to mold my gift from my mom’s mom.Words in the contense of the written word demonstrate more emotion then some actors jibber jabbering.

Words allow those of us abused to share thoughts and feelings on a higher plan. Words vastly full of essences colorful, full to an extense of aromatic demention. In 1985 I spoke with letters under doors.

Fearful to express to much looking back I was finally starting to come out even though I had yet not met other gays. Still had no idea what that was.Loved always to share rocks, all I had.It was asinine who I was,am was lied about to the extent I was placed onto Elder abuse not once but twice.

Mom ws pained a bedridden abused older women instead of the bridge playing red hat lady church goer who went six times a week to see dad in the nursing home. Mom drove there. Mom got the mail in 2012. Mom was a vibrant intelligent woman home owner in her early eighties.

I was brought up a caring loving generous Iowan who loved animaks and my family not dad.Its hard to love someone that sees you as a failure when you fo your best. In 1985 I worked for fifteen little old ladues and babysat and did odd jobs for others as a social entrepreneur. And helped mom caring for the yard.

Funny life is like an accident on the street no one sees who people really are whether good or bad and maybe not even if the accident was fatal.

Emotionally raped mine and mom’s was done by my narcississistic half sister. Diana covered her tracks with expertly delivered lies. My only regret about what Diana did and got away with was that she had decieded the October visit in 2014 to take dads guns to her son who could not be bothered to come to Iowa to say good bye to his dying granddad I had not ended her life. Then mother would still be safe in Iowa.

I’d still have my family. Not soul would ever find white trashes body. Diana,NPD, told me in 2014 no one cared to know the truth. She would be the first if I were more then a seriel writer.

Emotional rape is CCPSD. Like abused animals. Hard to trust use to give trust to everyone.Diana even lied to stranger at my local home town hospital where mom was treated after her set fire in our launfmdry rolm that she drove to Waukon Iowa and started while mom and I sat two rooms away watching TV.

Diana told all the nursing staff I was mot to be left alone with mom because I beat her. Made me wonder what was she afraid of. Five years later she should fear me. One red headed bearded male nurse told me if he knew when I was brought in I beat mom he would have let me die.

Anyone who is so stupid to not understand that diana slandered me for years arw as crazy as the woman who murdered my mom.

Published by Val's Whitewolf Media

I'm Val's Whitewolf Media YouTube Channle and I write here on WordPress. I read books and instill others how importand writing stories readers down. in readers their stories matter.I believe that everyone should tell their story and that every book is a learning tool that will help those of us who are writers become better at our craft.I'm learning plus becoming more confident as an empath its important to share and touch with my heart others harmed by others words.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: