Abusers justify their abuse with tales of self-defense
I stopped expressing myself in 1989. She said bc I lost control I had to go to her pedophile cousin overnight. SM definition of blow up includes her friends downstairs overhearing my cries mid strike.
In 1993, Korean Saturday School said I blew up, and Steph took me back to her cousin for a crab boil. I don't eat most shell fish bc there's very little meat for the massive amount of effort needed to break their exoskeleton. Sucking meat out of staws that are actually their forearm is not something I can deal with without vomiting from sobbing. A crab boil that she prepped, served, and I cleaned wrong, all at The House. Apparently I hid shells all around the house. He said God allowed anal.
Korean School said I blew up bc the girls had been bullying me for my fupa. I only owned 1 pair of leggings per year until 5th grade, and didn't want them to stretch out the waistband yanking them down too hard. The bullying always happened in a bathroom stall. From then on, I knew to run to townsquare for the bullying, so I had witnesses for my ability to stay cool, shutdown and escape into my own world no matter the number of bullies. I very distinctly remember being told, before I went on my first retreat with hanin, the way to make new friends is to show each other your naked butts, so pull peoples towels when they're naked, just like at home.
I am affected. Hours or days of taunting from your "mother", "grandmother", and her latest podunk friends calling me fat even before introducing themselves when I had starved myself for 3 days is a challenge. I feel my bruises detouring tears turned inwards, Christin wants to front so bad. Christin's anger is molten, churning my insides into acid and ash. Steph keeps going until I'm heaving and sweating bullets, I can't look up bc angry face is a blow up. My butt feels like it's going to fall out. Once there's enough sweat, I begin to chill. Enough chill and I begin to shiver. Visible shivering is blowing up. Containing my shiver, staying perfectly still while my cock eyed nipples and mismatched socks are yanked is usually enough. It's like a membrane, an invisible membrane between this world and mine. I can't point it out. It breaks and everything gushes into this bright, sunny, breezy, quiet save for a few windy trees and birds playing, place.
Its not a full world, or dimension. It's just vast enough for me to see where the horizon drops off bc the Earth is round. It's never dark, hot, or wet. Sometimes, a letter has been left for me. I can rub my face on everything. No one steals, where I left my items last visit is where they're found. I can treasure here.
You could understand why I love it here. Prefer it here. If I need to stay on Earth, for a dogsit or dr's appt for example, I eat.
