I haven't really slept and I'm really anxious, so forgive me if I'm confusing. I wish I could just crash out right now. I just wanted to write this down, because I know I'll want to forget it, and then I will later. Usually, I'm good about doing that.

Trigger Warning~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, hmmm. My father has been here for two days straight and has only left for a few minutes each day. So I've tried to mess up mine and my son's schedule even more, by sleeping from about 2 pm to 12 am, roughly. Well today, I heard my father come out of his room, and then I didn't hear anything. I knew he wasn't going to work, because it was too late in the day. So I waited a while and then I went out of my room. He wasn't there, so I got a quick snack. Tried to get a drink, but then the water turned off with in seconds. They turn the water off routinely in this neighborhood. It's quite annoying. So I melted a popsicle for me and my son and we drank that instead. My 16 month old son has not had any milk, juice, or disposable diapers in about a week due to lack of transportation. It really worries me that he has no milk. And cloth diapers give him the worst rash. Anyway, then I start cooking eggs, because that's about all we have to eat now. We've been eating nothing but dry cereal the past few days. We're running out of food. Okay, well, my father walked in while I was cooking. I couldn't go and run in my room with my son right before he walked in this time, because I was cooking. Anyway, my father sat down and kept picking up my son on his lap whenever he walked by him (my son rarely ever stayed sitting with him for a few seconds). This really, really makes me mad. Because not only can I not go in my room, because my father has my son, but my father also used to abuse me while I sat on his lap. Well after what was probably an hour, but forever in my mind, of me trying to get my son to take back in my room, my father's now ex-girlfriend called him and he went to his room WITH my son walking through the door and getting himself stuck in his room with him. Then my son started screaming trying to get out and my father was just laughing at him and I wanted to punch a hole in the wall (actually more like my father's face), because he wouldn't let him out. Well, he did a few seconds later. Well, then my father started heating himself up something to eat. I didn't know what it was and he started giving some of it to my son. Yes, this made me mad to. Then he says "OH you like that rice don't you?" It sound very sexual and disturbing to me. But I was more angry that my father was using my son as a tool to get what he wanted, for us to stay out there with him. I started having a panic attack and didn't know why. Then the second time he asked my son if he liked the rice it hit me and I had a flashback.

The flashback was mostly sensation wise, a physical feeling, but also sounds and a few dark unclear pictures in my mind that went on and off a few times. It was a flashback of SA, rape from my father. I never "remembered" this. But I've had these same kind of flashbacks before and didn't recognize what they were. I never really thought I had flashbacks as often as panic attacks until I started writing it down recently. And since my flashbacks are usually not very vivid at all, they aren't flashbacks as usually described in information about PTSD, I thought my PTSD gave me more a lot more panic attacks than flashbacks.

Now I realize maybe I just had my eyes closed during the abuse, and that's why I don't remember the visuals as much as the sensations, pain, and sounds. I was triggered today, by not only my father's tone of voice, but from him sayng rice. This happened the same day that I was refusing to eat a bowl of plain white sticky rice. I sat at the table for hours crying with my father screaming at me to finish. This was the same day my old T hypnotized me back to and I believed I saw my father drugging my food. It was the same day he forced oral on me. And I threw up everywhere, so he hurt me.

In the end of this, I don't know how much longer I can stay here. I could be triggered to more and more flashbacks, and it's getting harder and harder to talk to my father and see him around the house. For months, I haven't been able to say a word to him that doesn't sound angry and hateful. Then sometimes, I feel guilty for being so angry and mean. Sometimes, I feel bad for hating him.