I just can’t do this any more. Today has been the day from hell and i am totally exhausted and wanting to sleep but am too afraid too. I need to share today’s experience with you, then maybe i’ll be able to get some sleep tonight. Last night was a night of nightmares which ended at 3am when i got up because i couldn’t take any more. After yesterday, i thought things would be a little calmer and a little quieter today, but how wrong i was. I want to say so much. Chloe is screaming. Caroline is trying to charge of us all but is fighting a losing battle. She doesn’t want to make this post too long because that makes it difficult for others to read, but i so need to get this out.


I went to therapy today with Chloe trying to hide in a corner. My therapist *Lucy* surprised us when she asked why Chloe was hiding. “I’m hiding from the crack in the door where the light comes in”. Instant trigger into huge flashback! WTF?! “I’m back there in my bedroom, in bed, clutching my bear tightly to me. I hear the attic stairs to my room creak. I know he’s coming; he’s coming to get me; he’s coming and he’s gonna hurt me again. I’m waiting for the crack in the door to appear cos i know he’s coming, i know he’s coming. The crack in the door that lets the landing light shine in, just for that moment until he closes the door quietlly behind him and i am plunged into darkness againbut i hear a voicee telling me not to make a sound…his voice. I’m rigid with fear. I can feel the blankets being pulled back and i feel the cold air rush in. Then his breath, his smelly breath, stinking of his pipe and the sherry he had befor dinner tonight. He’s starting to take my jamas off, it’s cold, help, go away daddy, please go away daddy. Peter doesn’t want you to throw him on the floor again, he’ll get cold, i want to cuddle him. Daddy thrown my bear, Peter onto the floor and now he’s climbing into my bed. Noooooo, pleeeease, nooooooooo”.


‘Ellie, Ellie, come on back, it’s safe now, you’re sfe now. It’s ok. I’m here’…I hear Lucy’s voice. I’m sitting in my wheelchair, shaking violently, unable to catch my breath. Chloe won’t stop screaming despite Lucy’s assurance. ‘Breathe, Ellie; take a deep breath and trying and come back. Look at me. You”re safe now, Ellie’. 


I’m staring out of the window at a tree, tears sstreaming down my face, my nose running. I’, trying to breathe. I try and ground myself, looking around Lucy’s room, at the laamp on the desk, at the chair Lucy is sitting in, at the fluorescent light on the ceiling, anything. I’m breathing but i’m still shaking. I’m having trouble talking anymore, i’m exhausted; but i wrote this poem many years ago, but it wasn’t like this when i wrote it. I was calm, matter-of-fact, almost nonchalant. It was called ‘The Killing’…

He came at first, meekly

Then more than thrice weekly
Before he got into my bed
He attacked in the dark
Like a large, hunting shark
‘Cos he wasn’t quite right in the head


My breast-buds he’s licking
His conscience not pricking
When he came and demanded his fill
And I dared not to cry
Though had just reason why
When he came in and went in for the kill

Was I naughty or bad?
‘Cos he was my dad
When he stole my life from me
And still I am paying
The price for not saying
And him taking my liberty

I was young, bone and skin
He’d no morals, just sin
And I was his just for the taking
And when he had fled
Leaving mess in my bed
I lay there and couldn’t stop shaking

And the landing light shone
From the back of beyond
And I knew I was caught in his noose
And mum, she’d be sleeping
Although she’d be peeping
When, with me, he had no more use

And I was so small
And he’d come for it all
I knew then that I couldn’t fight him
And never a tear
Left my eyes with him there
Till the crack in the door let the light in.


I don’t want to re-read what i’vee written, i’m still shaking so sorry if there’s mistakes. I just wrote what came out but i can’t write any more. I can’t do this any more. I’ve got to go to bed with Huggy, my now bear. I need to hold him tight to me.


Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊

5 thoughts on “I CAN’T DO THIS ANY MORE!”

  1. Ellie, chloe, all of you, I am so sorry, we are so sorry, this is horrendous for you to be going through. I am glad you have lucy, and you have us, too. We hear you. We see you. We want to listen to you. Your post wasn’t too long at all hon. I we are so glad you felt able to share it. Safe, safe hugs to all of you. Xo

  2. Ellie – such courage through the pain, terror and fear – all this trauma relived – and lived again. I hope you find peace and sleep. As others hear have said – we understand and are here for you. Gentle hugs to you – no you are not alone.

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