When I was 11 years old I was sat doing my homework dad was sat next to me eating his dinner. Our TV had broken so we were using a portable that was on the dining table so he was facing the TV eating at the dining table and I was facing the other way also sat at the table. I heard a scream and looked up from my homework , my mother had entered the room eyes bulging screaming out loud with a kitchen knife in hand...She must have come towards us but I don't remember I think I just froze in terror no sound escaping from my open mouth... quick as lightening my dad jumped up grabbed the chair he was sat on and used it to pin her against the wall disarm her also .
The next part of the memory is him shouting to my sister and me to get out of the house and go to the neighbours that was a couple across the road mandy and nigel. Which is exactly what we did...
I don't remember the action but she did stab him while I was stood there open mouthed . Twice a few inches from his jugular in his neck he had 9 stitches altogether a 4 inch and a 5 inch so 2 stab wounds. He was wearing a black not vest but sleeveless t-shirt.
He kept it and still wore it for years and it had the 2 holes in it... so strange. Why wouldn't he have thrown it away?
Written by
Ellamaye
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Your description of this time in your life is so vivid, I could really feel as though I was there with you in that room. I am so sorry that you experienced that, I do not know how long you have kept that bottled up but a first step towards moving through trauma is by talking about it aloud or on paper. To acknowledge how real it is and not just something you kept inside you.
Using writing is my favorite tool for materializing my thoughts into something physical, something that exists outside my heart and mind, so I am proud that you have taken that step. We also cannot do this alone and with trauma like this, while I know myself and many in the community are here to support you (and each other) through this process, our very best tool along side is to explore the trauma with a therapist - and I do encourage their involvement if you can manage it.
I share a lot of my writing with my therapist. The most important thing about writing about my trauma is that now I am able to walk myself through those moments and explore the different ways my life has been influenced by its oily touch.
Keep on writing! Grab a journal too and find a pen that feels good in your hand because I’ll tell you what, there are times I find where I’ll have a fleeting thought about something and it is so nice to be able to capture a piece of it on paper. Sometimes you can then draw more from those snippets and expand on them later on. Writing is all about unraveling a dense idea, spinning it out into a larger tapestry that goes beyond its original starting point.
Thankyou and I have spoken about this 1 memory before. It is 1 of many to be honest but I've never described it just for me before without a reason to tell it. I did read back though and realise I said 4 inches and 5 inches instead of 4 stitches abd 5 stitches. My sister was there but she was in the kitchen and her memory is very different to mine . She saw our mother go in the drawer probably retrieve the knife and the next thing she knew I was running and we were running to the neighbours and never witnessed the horror. Just heard chaos.
I had a therapist as a child and then when I was in college but I've never found a fit. The principal of talking without a response when the person is sat opposite you has never helped me just made me feel awkward.
I don't want to spam on here but I will express again as I do have other experiences to offload .
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