Okay, it is fair to say that I suffered unimaginable trauma on the road. But....I am going to jump forward right now for as long as my kids will allow because they are around me right now. I want to tell you what got me off the road.

I was in Ohio and was hitchhiking, I caught a ride with a trucker. He was very quiet and had very distinguishing features. I would never forget him even if he aged 40 years, they were that distinguishing. I have thought of putting this on the private side of this diary, but I am going to go public. So, it is daytime and I am riding with this guy, he is older than me I think, but not by much, he is small in stature. That is as far as I am going with his looks. He is driving a long nose semi pulling a refer. After about 200 miles of riding he starts to talk to me of his wife and son. Evidently his wife was cheating and he feared losing his son and he really hated his wife. We never stopped to eat and I don't remember even stopping to pee, although I am sure we had to of as I was with him into the night. We stopped somewhere in the Pocono's along I80, there were rocks going up on the right side of the road, like it was a interstate cut into a mountain. On the left was a drop off and then you could see the Westbound traffic and then a huge drop off with gorgeous scenery. Trees and pine trees, just wilderness. We exited somewhere there and drove in a cloverleaf around to a road that lead to a little and I mean little ma and pa truckstop. We parked in the very back of the lot, closest to the exit to get on the cloverleaf and get on the highway. He had a cooler that was at my feet. It was old, it had the chrome lid and had diamond shapes cut into it. He asked if I wanted a beer, I declined. The store was closed that was completely across the almost empty lot. Maybe two other trucks were there, but they were parked about 150 ft. away up by the building. Well, I kept smelling almonds, like a burnt almond smell. Had been smelling it all day. he had spray that he would spray the cab of the truck with and his sleeper curtain was zipped on one side as to block any view I would have of the sleeper area. This is odd if you have ever run with truckers. Well, I had to pee, but had no where to go. I got out of the truck and pee'd between the cab and the trailer in the little section by the pig tails. I then returned to the truck, well he had me pass him another beer and another and the more he drank the more he spoke of his wife and how all women are ****s. He got more and more angered it seemed. Well, soon I had what I call "pucker factor" set in and felt that I needed to get away from him. But where? So, I was in for the long haul so I just listened as he ranted and raved. Then he told me to come and sit by him, I said "no, all I am looking for is a ride east". He then grabbed my hair and pulled so hard that clumps fell out. I pulled away and lost alot of hair and felt the pain of it ripping from my scalp. I left the truck and started to walk the clover leaf as fast as I could. It was about 2 a.m. and I was scared to death. The clover leaf had a wall going up of mountainous but steep like a wall black rocks going straight up within inches of the line that was a guide for vehicles on the right. I could hear his engine start. I walked thinking that I needed to make it to the interstate, I could hear his truck release its brake with a distinct "hiss" and then he was coming. he came around the edge of where I was and placed his passenger door blocking my path and said, "get in, I am so sorry, it won't happen again, I was just angry". I knew I had no where to go, he had me cold. So, I pretended I believed his apology and got in. Besides when I had run I left my duffel and my purse and my coat. So, I get in and he picks up speed, and then he rips my hair and tells me that I am a Bitch and started beating my face and tells me to get in the sleeper and wait for him to stop. I reached in the side that was unzipped and felt a ......person, I felt a dead ****ing person. I did not remember that until today, that was the smell that I have pondered on for years and years, it was not decay, it was fresh death. It was air freshener. It was a dead person in the ****ing sleeper. I am going to now make a long story short. I fought. I opened the passenger door and climbed out, yes of a moving semi doing about 80 mph. I hung on to the side bar and prayed that he would not put me and the passenger door into the rocks. He hit the breaks instead and I fell. I fell hard. I remember thinking, get up, get up now. and I got up and I ran, I ran back into the direction that traffic would be coming up from behind us if there was traffic coming. The roads were dead, I remember making it past the trailor and he was there on the other side screaming at me, I kept running. I remember thinking, he could not leave his truck sitting in the middle of the road like that. I am so glad I thought to run back and not forward. I ran and cryed and ran. Another semi did come along and I was bloody. I had no skin on my arms in spots, my knees, face, legs, I hit hard on the cement/asphalt. But....the trucker that picked me up wanted to call the police. I just begged him to go real slow, I knew he was up there waiting and if he saw me God only knows, run us off the road, shoot me in the face. I don't know. But the trucker was kind and crept along. When morning came he brought me to a place and got me a coat. He also doctored my wounds. I was sore so bad, but would not go to the hospital. I felt I was to blame.

Today I have spent hours looking on the internet for killer trucker, the year was 1981 or 82, could be 83. But there is nothing. My mom told me that they called her and found my purse in Indiana. My duffel was found a couple of months later in Ft. Stockton texas in a ditch. He knows my name, or should I say knew my name, it is now different. But....he is still out there. This is my main trauma, and it will not go away.

Hey Port.
So glad you are able to get this stuff out. Just want you to know I'm with ya all the way! You go girl!
Love and Care
Marilyn

I have been evading this "trauma diary" like the plague. I will stay out of my past for a bit. I need to absorb what is going on with me emotionally right now.

I am eating cereal every day, you could call it a craving, I NEVER eat cereal and yet daily I have at least one cereal. My son asks me constantly if I am okay.

I keep seeing a vision/flashback of trees growing out of the water. I keep thinking about a man that has an older days rod stewart mulet punk hairdo and he is putting on lipstick and talking to me, but I know not what he is saying.....

Thank you for sharing your story here Portabella. As I've said in other diaries, I learn from reading the experiences of others, as it helps me to better understand trauma and therefore understand Evie, and all of you! I think it's very courageous as well. Not sure I would have the same amount of bravery.

Evie will eat the same foods for weeks - before she became ill it was lasagna and tim tams and nothing else! Quite infuriating for us. But my theory on it is, it provides a kind of comfort to her. Something she can control and does not change. Perhaps it's similar for you. In any event, cereral is nutritious.

I think the breaks from one's diary are healthy and quite necessary really. If you do too much at once, you could get quite ill - has happened to Evie unfortunately. So do enjoy your break, and take good care.

Thank you for the comforting words. (As I just finished my cup of raisin bran and shared the remaining milk with my cat puss puss) :crazy-eye

I think of Evie often and hope she is doing well, or as well as can be expected.

I walked through a crowded bar today to use the restroom, I am quite proud of me, however the alternative was to pee on the back roads and that did not sound like a comfortable situation. I really had to go. I also spoke to my Mom today, New York has had a terrible Ice Storm. She is house bound until approx. Tuesday. She has my good sister with her. However, my bad sister was there too, I made a joke and told my mom whom is elderly and arthritic to go chip ice to allow my bad sister the ability to go to work. I had this vision of my mom and my good sister with ice picks getting my evil sister out.

My mom called just a short time ago, and yes they sure did. The thought of being stuck with her for three days straight, my good sister pick and axed the ice for 1 1/2 hours. My evil sister spent 6 hours hacking and my mom kept telling her to "get in the house and give up" which made her keep hacking. If my mom had told her to keep hacking, she would have come in, got to learn the ways of the evil one. We at least had a good laugh.

My thoughts are with you.
Hugs

So, I am relatively down in the mouth today because of all the violence on TV this week. I have been trying to just get through. I have even somewhat avoided the forum. So, I get on today and my emotions were all kind of at a head anyway. I see that some very special folks on the forum are going through very sad/bad/horrible times. So, I sprung a leak and now am going to get out of here for a bit.

So, I get on the forum today and I am reading and learning as usual. I got triggered by some of what I read today and I feel anxious and hurt. I feel this is compounded by my apprehension of my upcoming trip and surgery. I know this sounds dumb as I am a tough old bird, but the thought of having a pin placed into my arm and my wrist put back in place while totally awake scares me. Oh well.....cannot afford the hospital or the anesthesiologist so....will go the cheap way. I think a break from the forum may be a good idea as I am getting heavily effected at this time. I am also worried as a friend of mine with PTSD is in the hospital again, "stabilization unit" and I am hoping to speak with her prior to leaving for my trip. I am still missing my cat dreadfully and it really breaks me up. I know this cannot be compared to the loss of a child, since I have suffered the loss of a child at 8 years old I would know that. However, after having Puss Puss for 18 years this is still taking an effect on me heavily, effecting my whole family in fact.

Alright I am going to go lay down now and watch a movie, "the painted Veil" and try and veg. I read that a cat should not be as serious a death as a child. I don't know why that comment hit me so hard, but it did. I know that I am going to be sitting at my daughters grave in less than two weeks, she is buried in New York. She died at 8 f%$#ing years old, why? No it was not her surgery, that was bad enough. It was blood, all about the fresakin blood. I am sorry but I am told this is my diary so I am going to spill it out. I know it was a druggie or homosexual that killed my daughter. Aids was pretty strick to them in 1981 when the blood supply could not even be checked. I try, oh I try, I have nothing against druggies, they can kill themselves putting the needle into their arms, and gay people, have at it, but keep your blood to yourselves. I am on a rant now. When you see an innocent beautiful 8 year old girl, my beautiful f^%ing 8 year old girl die slow. Yeah I realize that a cat is not a child, but the cat stil freaking hurts too. Now I am the one crying and sick.

OMG so sorry to hear about your daughter Portabella. I'm not sure I realized you had lost a child like that. I apologize if you told me before and I have forgotten. I've been kind of out of it lately. That is very sad, especially dying from tainted blood, I totally get your resentment towards druggies, etc. It must be so painful.

Sorry about Puss Puss too. I love cats, and I believe I read in another thread that your cat was 18 years old? That's practically a whole lifetime for me! My aunt's cat is 15 years old and has attached himself to me specifically since I moved here, he is constantly at my side. In the back of my mind I keep thinking he will not live much longer, and that is sad. I'm sure I will be very unhappy when he dies too.

Anyways take care, I hope you have a good trip to New York and feel better soon.