Kathi_S
Member
One of the lasting effects of PTSD. I finally get some sleep only to be invaded by nightmares. This time I was kidnapped by the Taliban, thank you very much current political climate.
As a victim a violent crime, not once, not twice, but multiple times, I have never been more afraid than I am now. I am so afraid that we are losing the way of life we have always known.
I grew up in a violent home. My parents were both alcoholics. I was beaten by my father and emotionally abused by my mother.
I was held at gunpoint by a drug dealer, in my early 20s. This was my own fault, I should not have been there, but the guy freaked out because he didn't know me. It took my friend along time to calm him down.
When I was in my late 20s I was run off the road on my way home from work at about midnight, forced out of my car at gun point and into a truck. I was then driven back to the restaurant that I managed and was forced to go back in and open the safe and give him everything inside. The exterminator happened to be at the restaurant that night, so the kidnapper told me not to say anything to him. Of course I didn't, and the exterminator knew what was going on and stayed clear of us. This was way before cell phones. Then the kidnapper tried to take me with him after he got the money. I really started to panic at that point. I was begging to be left behind. When he tried to make me get into his truck the exterminator came out of the restaurant and yelled out to him that he had the money just leave the girl alone, the guy panicked, jumped into his truck and sped off. The exterminator saved my life.
When I asked for a divorce from my first husband, he went upstairs and came down with a gun, he had 3 bullets, he told me that if I left, the first bullet was for my first daughter, the second was for the second daughter, the third was for him, so that I could live the rest of my life knowing that I killed my whole family. Needless to say, I called my brothers and we moved out that night.
A few years later, I was working in the same restaurant mentioned above, in the middle of dinner rush hour I was again robbed at gunpoint. This time by a very nervous gang member with his finger on the trigger of an automatic weapon held at my temple the entire time. I weep as I type this as I still remember the thoughts that went through my head through those horrible moments. What would happen to my girls if this guy shoots me? I truly believed he would. He kept saying he was going to. I couldn't get the safe open. It was a floor safe. I was on my hands and knees, shaking like a leaf, crying, begging, pleading, telling him that I was trying. I finally got it open, gave him everything. He ran. I went into shock. I wasn't even able to close the restaurant or call the police. Someone else had to do it.
So you see, I am really, really scared. I rely on the police. I rely on our soldiers to protect us. I don't want them defunded and disbanded. I'm terrified the bad guys are coming.
When you see covid masks, you see protection. I see masked bandits. I'm not exaggerating. After my last robbery, I couldn't see anyone in a hoodie without it triggering a panic attack. My kids couldn't wear hoodies! I cannot sit in ANY room without facing the door. It is an accepted fact in our family. When we are seated in a restaurant, everyone knows to give me the seat that faces the door.
This madness in the world is scaring me shitless. When will it end?
Sorry to go on, getting kidnapped by the Taliban kinda freaked me out.
As a victim a violent crime, not once, not twice, but multiple times, I have never been more afraid than I am now. I am so afraid that we are losing the way of life we have always known.
I grew up in a violent home. My parents were both alcoholics. I was beaten by my father and emotionally abused by my mother.
I was held at gunpoint by a drug dealer, in my early 20s. This was my own fault, I should not have been there, but the guy freaked out because he didn't know me. It took my friend along time to calm him down.
When I was in my late 20s I was run off the road on my way home from work at about midnight, forced out of my car at gun point and into a truck. I was then driven back to the restaurant that I managed and was forced to go back in and open the safe and give him everything inside. The exterminator happened to be at the restaurant that night, so the kidnapper told me not to say anything to him. Of course I didn't, and the exterminator knew what was going on and stayed clear of us. This was way before cell phones. Then the kidnapper tried to take me with him after he got the money. I really started to panic at that point. I was begging to be left behind. When he tried to make me get into his truck the exterminator came out of the restaurant and yelled out to him that he had the money just leave the girl alone, the guy panicked, jumped into his truck and sped off. The exterminator saved my life.
When I asked for a divorce from my first husband, he went upstairs and came down with a gun, he had 3 bullets, he told me that if I left, the first bullet was for my first daughter, the second was for the second daughter, the third was for him, so that I could live the rest of my life knowing that I killed my whole family. Needless to say, I called my brothers and we moved out that night.
A few years later, I was working in the same restaurant mentioned above, in the middle of dinner rush hour I was again robbed at gunpoint. This time by a very nervous gang member with his finger on the trigger of an automatic weapon held at my temple the entire time. I weep as I type this as I still remember the thoughts that went through my head through those horrible moments. What would happen to my girls if this guy shoots me? I truly believed he would. He kept saying he was going to. I couldn't get the safe open. It was a floor safe. I was on my hands and knees, shaking like a leaf, crying, begging, pleading, telling him that I was trying. I finally got it open, gave him everything. He ran. I went into shock. I wasn't even able to close the restaurant or call the police. Someone else had to do it.
So you see, I am really, really scared. I rely on the police. I rely on our soldiers to protect us. I don't want them defunded and disbanded. I'm terrified the bad guys are coming.
When you see covid masks, you see protection. I see masked bandits. I'm not exaggerating. After my last robbery, I couldn't see anyone in a hoodie without it triggering a panic attack. My kids couldn't wear hoodies! I cannot sit in ANY room without facing the door. It is an accepted fact in our family. When we are seated in a restaurant, everyone knows to give me the seat that faces the door.
This madness in the world is scaring me shitless. When will it end?
Sorry to go on, getting kidnapped by the Taliban kinda freaked me out.
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