Bread crumbs for the book just in case…

Weird how this works, but something will stick in my thoughts and I start talking and things just fall into place… and yep, the damn fistula is letting me know I am using my brain…

Because we have no clue when the VA will get its head out of its ass and I may die, before this is fixed, I will be documenting memories so that Mike can have someone else write the book for me… there are some things I haven’t put together because I thought I had time… ooops… so the memory chain for the book, and if no interest in reading this, that is okay… it’s just a time line diary for me….

I think I have narrowed down the time frame from the Big Springs incident to the last one on Okinawa and if I get my memories back, we’ll see how accurate I was or am…

I remember Don said to me just before he left for Japan, I will have a present waiting for you when you get there… it was my birthday and no money for anything and I would get my present alright… this was 1968….

In Aug of 67 my half-sister was born… and if I am right… the attack that left me with a stroke, happened before the holidays…  which works out, because I didn’t start making memories until june 1968…so we’ll go with this time frame…

We get to Japan and I remember being a typical tomboy out barefoot and playing even at 14, my brain was not geared towards puberty, it was still in kid mode…

Well that gift dad promised, came via Freda (mom) and Peggy (sis)… I said something or whatever, it didn’t matter to these two women… they just hated what they could never have… humanity, something I never stopped displaying or living… because in Texas… I died and knew there was no god…. so that gift… I got the crap beat out of me again in less than a year after suffering a stroke and I’ll have to go with that was when the fistula reared its ugly head, because within months I was having balance issues and I was already losing my childhood to the fistula… but bits and pieces were there in the form of a bread crumb trail that my brain latched onto… and that is when the ugly orange poncho got made by Freda to buy my silence, nearly froze to death in that piece of shit and sister she loved it, while she had a nice warm coat…… , so when I got rid of the poncho, she wanted it… hope Peggy strangled in that damn thing, she wanted it so bad… it really is amazing how these memories work….

So that near death on Japan, left things in the home less violent… and from what a friend has told me, that is when I started standing up to my parents… damn, now that is a memory I would relish….

By the time we get to Okinawa in Dec 69… my brain was totally screwed and was in full survival mode… and that may explain the memories I have, but I got doubts… but we do make memories based on something we learn at a very early age… so this one, ehhh…

When the blow happened in 71, that was when Freda knew if they didn’t get me out of the house, all those years of military service would be for naught… because of him and her killing me in Texas… I accept the fact, in Texas I died… that black memory has to be real, no other reason for it… probably why I was able to escape religion… I actually saw the truth about death… freaky huh….

For this little diary, I can say with certainty… that the TV interview memory, the boob incident memory, the Texas memory and Japan and Okinawa…. all are TBI’s at various degrees… and with certainty I can say at least 3 of those was severe… hello, MRI…

Ironic isn’t it… all about image… the rape and attempted murder cover up at Vance AFB with my kids… all about image… the murder of me at Webb AFB… all about the image… and not the image of this human, but an entity…. called…

The United States Air Force…. good thing a lot of these mother fuckers are dead… because I would do all I could to ruin the lives they have, because they had no problem taking mine…

TimesUp #MeToo WhyIDidntTell

I Remember… Margie…

Sgt. USAF DAV