The trauma of abuse-then the trauma of murder.

Things were kind of ok. I had been working part-time at my government job and attending university full-time. I had been divorced or separated for about ten years. My oldest was 22, my youngest were 14. Finally I would finish school and maybe move up in my job. I had a late start. But now at 41 and finally working on finishing my B. A. I had refined ance the house in order to have need surgery at the time and decided to take the money and finish school. Something for me. I couldn’t work full-time and go to school at night. That would be leaving the kids all day and night. So I put off going to school. So this was my chance. I just finished up at community college and had started at State. One month into it and tragedy struck. My oldest and only son knifed to death at his sisters. By the Crips gang. This was in my neighborhood. This was not a gang infested area. This was a nice bedroom community in San Diego. This was crazy!!! My oldest daughter had watched as her brother was murdered. He all dressed up in his suit from the wedding. Not knowing that outside the house were gang bangers robbing kids from the next community over at knife point. They finished with the kids on the lawn then came to the front door. They wanted in. My daughter asked them to leave. They threatened her with a brick until my son broke thru and pushed them back, but they crashed in anyway. A fight broke out in the living room. The kids in the backyard were oblivious to what was happening in the house. The one guy pulled a knife and threatened my son. My son laughed at him and told him to put away the knife and that he was holding him for the police. The guy stabbed him in the heart and ran. He died an hour later in the trauma unit.

I arrived at the hospital. One of my sons friends called me to come quickly. I was only a 5 minute drive away.

My daughter was in a police car at the hospital. She was hysterical. I had them get her and we hugged and cried and waited. The doctor came out. I don’t even remember what he said. Only that my son was dead.

Trauma-my original reason for “Where are the lost”

I have been in California since December 2018. I returned from living in Cambodia for the past year. And before that Thailand. Came back for several months in 2017 to California then returned to SEA.

I am back now for medical. Had no health insurance in Cambo. It is expensive to buy. Thailand has great medical and hospitals but you need to pay for upfront. But it is way way cheaper than the states.

Anyway I am back. Found I needed eye surgery. Fine did that. Then had an attack in Seaport Village and went swallowing. So now I have to go to W. LA to see surgeon.

This would be fine-but I have no place to live. Right now I am at old friends. Paying for food and rent but its temporary. Cant find anywhere to live that I can afford!! Its totally crazy..

I am 69

I divorced the abuser. Worked at a government job, but they didn’t take out #SS. I finished college to get better job within job. Nope, that didn’t help. Finally I quit. Got my Real Estate license. That was not the easiest. Lots and lots of competition. You need money to make money. Anyway-big crash. Boom no sales. I did return again to school and earned my Special Education Teaching credential. But I was 57. Didnt realize they needed spec ed teachers but not 57 year old teachers!! Long story short-not a big check!!!

So I am stuck in California until I get my surgery. Whenever that will be. Don’t get a consult until July 18th. So I am in limbo. Can’t go back to SEA. That’s where the trauma is creeping in.

The trauma is my kids. My oldest, my son was murdered at his sisters rented house she shared with other students. My son and I were at his friends wedding. We just arrived. Twenty minutes later he was gone. He was 22. She was 20.

Find the need to vent.

I started this blog actually about connecting to people that have been thru trauma and had been lost in the shuffle. Then it sort of followed my adventures in Thailand and Cambodia. but now that I find myself back in San Diego with a strong desire to scream.

I have a friend, Leon. Leon is the person who introduced me to SEA. That would be Southeast Asia. If not for him I would have stayed in the states and travelled in my Roadtrek van RV.