PTSD is not a joke...I thought it was.

I didn't know I was living in hell until the hell left.

The smallest thing will send me on a rampage.

I do not like this thing in myself.

My roommate called me today looking for some thing in his room. Sorry, I was asleep. I haven't been sleeping that well so when I can catch it I don't move.

The message was ugly. "India! are you there? Wake up! Are you sleeping? Wake up! I need you to find some thing in my room. Pick up the phone."

The cherry on the top was when he was hanging up the phone he said "Son of a bitch."

Really? I just did not hear this.

Horns grew on the top of me head. I called him. He answered. I said "Don't EVER leave me a message on my answering machine and cuss." I hung up.

My hands and legs were shaking. They still are.

I find it bizarre how the littlest things don't effect people like they do me.

I still remember where I put every thing. Men out there buy a chain for your wallet. Where did I find his wallet after two hours of saying I stole it? The fridge. Did he want to cool money he didn't have?

When people say they can't find a wallet or keys...really? I know...why don't you know?

DD thought me how to find things for him. This is how I found out the saying "It's always in the last place you look."

The minutes and hours of searching for his shit I realized it's the first place you left it.

His birthday was yesterday. I always made it special because he never really had good ones. He hated me for that.

I don't understand what he did to me but I'm starting to find out. I've gotten better.

The "Sleep with one eye open or I will kill you." Still has not faded.

I have my bouts of PTSD. My brain goes into defense mode. People telling me to calm down...heh. It's a trigger for me. Don't tell me what to do.

I can't stand this shit.

Will the nightmare of him chocking me go away?

I'm starting to remember so many things I wanted to forget.

Why was I there? Why did I stay?

I don't know if any woman that can answer that question.