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the first post in this series is here:  On Being a Social Outcast

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From out of the haze of this crisis (a good Christian friend of mine telling me to take a hike) I re-dreamed a memory I’ve carried with me all my life. The dream came with such force that it felt like I was actually re-living the experience as a child again. This time however, in a vivid detail I had forgotten, it became clear to me, why I thought I was going to be killed during a beating.

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and this is the way he would beat her.

he’d grab her by the upper arm, dragging her violently to the living room where there was a lot of open space. flinging her around in a circle so fast that her feet would leave the ground, all the while hitting and pounding her and screaming things at her. he would fling her around fast, the way a discus thrower flings a discus, and she knew that one day he was going to let go of her arm aiming her toward one of the plate glass windows at the back of the house. She’d crash through the window, scrape her body across the rough patio then fly through the air to the ground two stories below.

afterwards, he would throw her into her room where she darent move a muscle because if he caught her crying he would do it to her again.

The next post in this series is here:  After The Memory… Now What?

(to go back to: More Problems… Damn It:  click HERE )

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