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Fractured Mind

By

Brenda Gooding





Disclaimer

This is intended in no way to cause pain to anyone. This is my perception of the events that happened in my life















ISBN: "9781522033394"



This book has a lot of abusive situations be aware there may be some triggers



I had a very bad experience with anesthesia a few months back. I checked out for a few minutes. When I came back I had all these memories jumping me from out of nowhere. Things I had not thought of in years. And so much anger. I thought I had put the anger and the memories, all of it behind me. I guess not.

It bothered me so badly I started therapy. My therapist asks me what I did to cope with my abusive childhood. I explained as a child and an adult. I imagined a well in the middle of a dark wood that was filled with black icy cold water and I would take the memories and put them in a chest with a one way slot in it. I Wrapped the chest with chains and dumped it in this well.

She then asks me about any recent trauma. I explained what happened on the table in the operating room. Their hands were holding me down. Leaving the table and moving at lighting speed in total darkness and freezing cold. She believes I jumped right into the well were all these horribly terrifying memories are and all the anger that they inspire.

Her first suggestion as to why I was doing some of the off the wall out of character things for me was that the child in me had never healed and was screaming out for help. This makes sense considering nothing was ever healed only hidden. She suggested I write a letter to this child to let her know I was getting her help.

But there is way more than just one letter required for this injured child. So I decided to let her write. I want her to know I am not going to hide anymore. She will not be ignored and there will be no more abuse. It’s over and the suffering is as well. I am going to help her.







Dear baby girl.

I know you cannot read this right now. But I know why you sit in that corner this morning confused and sullen.

You see sweetheart I believe you saw the demon in the window. Demons feed on human pain and pain from the innocent is much sweeter than any other. Ironically it was the presence of the demon that caused you to meet the monster that would destroy your life.

Mommy said you didn't see anything. It was only a nightmare. You cried so hard you were so afraid of that demon. Mommy put you in bed with daddy and went to work. I don't know if she knew he was the monster then or not.

Right now you are trying to figure out what happened and why daddy hurt you. You are trying to figure out if the demon got daddy. He kept telling you he loved you and how special you are. But he didn't treat you good, he was mean and hurt you and wouldn't stop even when you cried.

If I could say anything to try to help you, I would whisper in your ear and tell you to run, run as hard and fast as you can and don't look back.

I can't do that. It has already been written in the book of time. So we are lost. But I want you to know. I was there with you and stood with you when you told what happened. I didn't know what to do when they all called us a liar and then treated us like we were the ones that had done wrong and shamed us into hating our self.

I want you to know I'm sorry that all these years I have left you alone, scared and confused in that corner. I want to help you out of that corner. I know you don't trust me but I'm asking for one more chance to save you. I want to love you if you will let me.

Sincerely, the dark one



Dear lost girl

You’re five now and things are worse. The monster is here completely not just creeping around now and then. No one believes you. They think you are evil and call you all kinds of things that right now you don’t quite understand. These words will come back to you later.

I know you have just gone through one of the turning points, one of the things that have broken you.

I was there with you. I heard them fighting and saw him come out the back door and take your hand. He told you we were going to pick wild flowers. Your sister wanted to come but he said she was too little. I didn’t want to leave her. She was crying and standing so close to the road. Dad said she wouldn’t go in the road, but she was so little. She didn’t know she shouldn’t go in the road. It turned out ok for her. Mom got her, and she was yelling for me. Dad didn’t tell her we were picking flowers. He wouldn’t let us go back or even yell to answer her.


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