This is Luna. I think you know about when that bad man came to our house. Well for the past couple days I’v been thinking about him. On december 2nd 2005 was the day he came to our house. I went to my counselor today and she helped me. I feel expesholly scared at school because i’m not with my mom. Thinking about this man makes me get an enxity attake. Uselly I feel the exity attake in my heart, legs, face, arms and my chest so it makes it hard to breath. Sometimes at school I feel homesick and I feel like i’m going to thow up. I uselly feel this way during the afternoon because it happend in the afternoon. Sometimes when I think of the man it confuses me and I loose track on what I’m doing. when im feeling this way some of my friends ask me what is wrong but I dont feel confterble saying whats wrong.My mom says to think of good things instead of negitive things so I tried doing that and it made me smile but, thats when there is a twist, the man barges in to our house and tries to kill us so that makes me more scared. I go to theripy since that day so my theripy person helps alot too. Please let me know what you think about this and tell me one thing I should do to make him get uncloged out of my head.
Especially after closing the door on my child, I felt much like a marionette. Being tugged and pulled and moving about at the hands of something or someone else. There was no time to think things through, I had to act with feriocity.
My body moved down the stairs, through the sitting room, and dining room and into the kitchen. I could feel him on my tail, but was determined to get what I needed. There I was, reaching for the large knife I had pictured myself grabbing, but I fumble. I try again, this time grabbing whatever I could, he was so close to me. The wooden block was full of different knives. There was one in there that we never really knew what to use it for. The filet knife had a curved shape to it and was maybe 8 to 10 inches long. Certainly not the knife I would have seen myself using to pierce the flesh of my attacker.
I am holding a knife. It falls to the ground. I can barely breath and know that I will die now. He is hovering over me, chest toward the ground. I am below him and as I stand and turn toward him I stab him. The knife travels with ease through his layers of clothing, and into his flesh. My hand hits his pectoral with a thump. I release. He is caught off guard, arms flalling, body faltering, I start to fight him. I kick his ass right out the door. His blood, fresh, on my floors is the reality of what just transpired in my home.
The SVU detective I spoke with later that night told me that he could’t understand why this man lived – I had hit a main artery in his chest and he should have died. At that moment I had wished he was dead. In fact for many weeks, and months following I wished that he had died. I couldn’t fathom meeting him again! I knew there was to be a trial in the future and I did not want to face him again! I was terrified of him.
What if I had killed him? How would that have affected my healing and who I am today. I don’t think I would want to live the rest of my life knowing that my life experiences include killing a man. I can’t imagine that my heart would hold the lightly, a burden I do not wish to bear. Maybe this is why he lived, for me, so I could heal myself. I am still very mad at him for what he did to us on that day in December, but I have forgiven him. Carrying a burden whether of death or hatred is too much in this short life. I choose, to be free.
Yes, its has been a while. So long that I forgot my user name and password.
Why today? I am not really sure, guess it just feels right. I have found, that for me, the only way to conquer my feelings is to share. I have been very preoccupied the past few years, but it is this time of the year, every year, that my body starts to react. The thoughts of what happened to my family don’t stir up these crazy emotions. My body just starts to feel different. Then my head. And it is cyclicle. And it lasts almost the entire winter. On and off. Hot and cold.
My mouth is dry, and my body clenches tightly to my heart. It starts to beat rapidly. I feel dizzy and nauseous. I want to cry. I can feel the strain in my throat, cheekbones and in my eyes. Waves of utter fear invade my body. I am unclear as to what I am so fearful of. Negative thoughts trickle and don’t stop. I am never suicidal, just completely vulnerable. Like anything can and will happen. Most of it is related to my girls and the possibilites of losing them. All this dissipates over a few hours and I am fine. It never paralyzes me, just sets me back a little bit. I overcome and move on. And that is the cycle.
I understand all of this. It has been going on the past 6 years. But what now, what am I to do with it. That is always where I get stuck. So, today, I write. It helps to share with you that I still feel the pain, it is very real after all these years. I remeber that a friend reminded me healing is a process and this is just part of it I suppose. I just wonder if it will ever all go away, or will I always be reminded at this time of year that Luna and I were attacked by a monster. That our lives were threatened and our idealistic home terrorized. We rebuild, add on but remain at the core, unsettled.
Thank you all for listening. It really helps me. xoxoxo
I haven’t talked much about Luna’s recovery. She is very well, a happy, sincere little girl. I have always called her an “old soul.” She has the wisdom of an elder and has helped me tremendously in my healing. I find if I really listen to her, she gives me answers to really difficult questions that I have about myself. She is the epitome of beauty and compassion, and I am so proud she picked me to be her mother.
The day after the attack, I called Luna’s pediatrician. I shared the events of the previous day with him, telling him of the attack. I asked him what I could expect from Luna. He assured me that children are resilient and that she was too young to remember. I hung up the phone knowing in my heart that Luna was not a little girl who was going to just forget what happened that day. She was still acting very normal for a two-year old many days after the attack. But, she was definitely carrying a burden, and I could hear it in her voice when she would ask “are you okay mommy?”
We were staying with my parents after the attack. One of my father’s friends came to the house a few days later. He rang the doorbell and then walked into the kitchen. My Luna convulsed with pure fear. Terrified, she called for me, and when I picked her up to console her, she clenched her little body around me and sobbed. I knew that this incident was a trigger for her and that she was going to need help. She reacted in this way a few other times shortly after the attack. The doorbell is still a trigger for her. She does not react like she did that day, but she immediately stiffens up and does not relax until she knows we are all safe.
I will continue to write about Luna’s experiences in the following posts. This is one of the most difficult parts, because I really don’t want to think about what my girl has had to go through and what she has lost. I just have to remind myself of all that she has gained, and that she really is a loving and happy little girl. I am very proud of her.
You have come here with a purpose, fierce and red-hot
Your cries of passion fill the warm moonlit room
Round and bursting you come searching,
you attach yourself to me and fill yourself up,
reluctant to let go, I do not want to be alone
You clench your tiny fists tight,
and then release for all the world to hear
“I am here and this is me!”
My child of the sun, I embrace you and your ferocity.
I am your mother.
You came into the world blue-faced and barely breathing.
I begged you to breath, to be with me. I need you too.
A tiny cry entered the heavy air, your cry.
You are present, with me,
in my arms, against my breast.
You are searching, for warmth,
reassurance, love, milk.
I give you all that I can and I always will.
My child of the moon, I will always give you what I can.
I am your mother.