MPS-Part 13 I'm Not Dead Yet

As I slowly regained consciousness, I opened my eyes one at a time. I was so confused. What happened? Where am I? Am I still alive or am I dreaming? Then it dawned on me...those voices I heard...someone turned the tv on in the living room. That means he must be sitting on the couch watching something. I wonder if he thinks I'm dead? How long have I been unconscious? What...how the hell did I end up on the kitchen floor? And what is that sharp thing poking me in the back of my head?

The pain in my head and neck was excruciating. I tried to inch myself up off the floor so I could see what was broken, if I was bleeding and to ensure my 4-legged kids were ok. I prayed he hadn't killed them in his fit of blinding rage. Hopefully I was the only thing he beat the shit out of and tried to kill.

I scooted myself to the door frame so I could hold on and try to stand up. Whoa...this wasn't going to work - I'm dizzy as hell. Oh damn, that thing poking me in the back of my head was my (now) broken plastic hair clip. The teeth were sticking me in the back of my head where I landed on it on the cold, hard floor. Strange...the last thing I remembered was being on the far side of the living room and his hands choking the breath from my body. I have no idea how I ended up on the kitchen floor.

Normally Josh would apologize after he beat me, but this time he didn't say a word. I stumbled into the living room and attempted to make it to the couch before I fainted. My head was so heavy, I felt as if the sheer weight of it would make my neck snap. Oh I wanted to throw up - all movement, even breathing was making me sick to my stomach. I was seeing double, was dizzy and hurt like I'd been run over by a Peterbilt.

He was sitting on the couch watching some stupid cartoon while I stumbled around trying desperately to not let him know how badly he'd hurt me. Any sign of weakness on my part was another invitation for an ass kicking. I tried desperately, but just couldn't make it to the couch. The living room carpet looked so inviting, so I just collapsed right there for awhile. My mouth felt like it was full of marbles. Every time I tried to say something, I'd stutter or it just wouldn't come out right. I was so frustrated and scared. I knew I was hurt badly. I couldn't even think straight and that scared me even more. I was vulnerable, like a wounded bird.

My 4-legged kids were in hiding. I have no idea how long I stayed on the floor, but when it got dark, they came out of hiding so I could feed them. I managed to stumble around the kitchen and feed all my critters and let the puppy out to piddle. Poor kids, they were so scared that after they ate, they ran back to their respective hiding places, probably fearing that they were next.

We stayed up for a few hours and he pretended that nothing was wrong. I was in such dire pain. I wanted to go to the emergency room because I knew something was really wrong with me. Instead I walked down the hallway towards the bedroom, bouncing off the walls all the way down the hall. I fell into bed, hoping to get some sleep. I prayed I'd wake up and be ok. Oh shit...no...he's on top of me forcing me to have sex with him. I don't have the strength to fight him and every movement sends jarring shards of pain through my body. Oh God please let this end!

To be continued...

It Hurts So Good

Holy Crap! I can't believe I hurt this much...what the hell?! Let me start from the beginning...I'm an over-achiever. I'm also anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive, a perfectionista and I hate to lose. Those are some of my more endearing qualities too. Those of you who know me are probably losing control of your bodily functions reading this. It's an understatement, for sure.

Monday started out as a great day. I religiously did my workout (Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays) with my favorite dvd, in the comfort of my own home. I'll be damned if anyone outside of my home is going to see me in spandex or exercising with no shorts at all. Anyway...the workout went well. Afterward I was feeling extra froggy and decided to finally cut the grass at my house and my neighbors' house next door. They are elderly, so I do it for them all the time.

The forecast was calling for possible rain sprinkles, so I checked the radar before venturing outside. The radar was clear with the exception of a small spot miles west. Just my luck, I got a quarter of the way done with my lawn and it started to rain. Not sprinkle like the weatherman said, but a steady rain. Dammit! I get so angry when I can't finish a project I set out to do. It pisses me off to no end. I waited for about 20 minutes under the back of my camper shell in my truck for the rain to stop. Yeah...right. I gave up, went inside and took a shower.

Tuesday morning looked promising for finishing the lawn chores and yard cleanup. I got all psyched up to finish this project. Stupid me forgot that the town I live in turns into a swamp after ANY rain. That's what the town name means in Native American - swamp. No, I shit you not.

Five hours later - yes FIVE hours later, I finally finished fighting with the wet grass, dead tree limbs, underground bees nest (surprise!), mole holes and called it a day. I hadn't eaten anything and was starving. I was also tired as hell and was starting to get sore from having to fight with the push mower all day. See I forgot to replace the drive belt on my tractor, so I was forced to cut the grass with a push mower. That'll teach me to procrastinate.

Once I got out of the shower, the pain from hell set in. Now don't get me wrong, I'm no creampuff. I live with pain on a daily basis (thanks to my ex-boyfriend/stalker who repeatedly kicked the shit out of me) and function fairly well without complaining. All bets were off - I could barely move.

Today's Thursday and I'm still sore as hell. Yesterday I thought I was going to die. I swear I wanted to file a hit and run report on the truck that ran my little ass over and left like a scalded dog! All I can do is grit my teeth, smile and say "oh yea, bring on the pain. It hurts sooooo good". Yesssss, please pass the icepacks and my meds. I've got more work to do and can't stop now!

Stubborn...who...me? You bet your ass! I didn't get to where I am in life by lying down and playing dead, or whining, complaining, bitching, pissing, moaning about how unfair life is. Like I always say, suck it up and move on!