PTSD for girls!

This is a hard blog for me to write but I am compelled to write it. I’m not sure why but here it is.

Once when I was 10, my parents got into a fight first thing in the morning. It was a Sunday. It was December. I know it was a Sunday because I remember weird stuff, and I know it was December because the Christmas decorations were up. My sister had already moved out so I was the only child.

My dad tried to strangle my mom. You see, she wanted to go visit her mom who was in the hospital after being diagnosed with cancer, but dad did not want her to go. So he picked her up by her neck. He used his fingernails to scratch her neck up. My mom fought him off and got the hell out of there. She went down to the city to my Aunt’s house on Utah St., right by the big church with the red doors on Grand. I had just woken up for the day. When I finally realized what was going on the house was empty.

At some point during the day, my dad came home. He proceeded to rip our Christmas tree down and break all of our handmade ornaments. Then he started toward me. As he walked toward me, I remember thinking “Jesus Christ I’m only 10 years old”. He screamed at me telling me that he hated me. Then, right in front of me, he reached into my parakeet’s cage. My parakeet’s name was Danny, after my next door neighbor. My dad grabbed Danny. He then threw Danny at the wall as hard as he could. I heard him hit and saw feathers flying. I grabbed my dog, Suzette, and ran out into the street. There was snow on the ground. I walked to my friend Tina Martin’s house and told her mom what happened. She drove me to my Aunt’s house to be with my mom.