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Beautiful full moon tonight. I was outside without my phone. No pics tonight, just enjoying the clear sky. At least three opossums were wandering around. A couple of skunks, some cats, and me and Franklin. I love having lots of life around.

Someday my yard will be my dream garden. I’ll grow lots of extra things for the wildlife to have snacks. I’ve bought seeds here and there for a while. I still want to start a few things inside. I haven’t gotten the energy together to create a Murphy safe space yet. I’ll be ready with the seeds inside and outside.

I’ve been so busy the past couple of days. No time to think too much. I’ve got some emails that need attention in the next couple days. I hate it, I just want to be outside with gardens and animals. I don’t want to do the other stuff.

Sometimes when I’m writing this stuff I can hear how tired I am amongst n my words that I am writing.

I was noticing my exhaustion so clearly last night as I was writing about some of the ways ptsd affects my life.

Some days I am over tired from my normal day to day responsibilities. but it’s the added stress from the situations that I have had no control over, but cause me so much harm, that push me complete exhaustion. I can feel it in what I write. But it’s also in how I move around my chores.

Uggh. I’m want some justice for how badly these toxic people harm me and my life.

It’s 5 am and I’ve been up for a while already because even though it wears me out, the anxiety wakes me up.

Justice, vindication, and safety from these people. Thats the goal

PTS and cpts stuff pops up on my feed. It’s helpful to know that some of the things I experience that I thought was just me, is not just me.

Since my trauma started because of my brother, Brian Conley, I’ve always experienced these things.

I’ve always avoided looking in the mirror. The avoidance increased every year in my childhood. I’d out in makeup without looking at myself as a whole. I don’t wear any makeup at all now. So it’s been years since I’ve looked in a mirror.

I’ve avoided pictures for most of my life. Especially once I hit teenage years. I sometimes have actual panic attacks thinking about having a picture taken.

There’s a few pictures of me out there. I had a senior picture at 17. I’m glad I did. I think it’s ok. And a couple from when my daughter was very young. I took one with my youngest a few years ago that doesn’t cause me too much stress to see.

I haven’t read past that others experience the same. I’m not in a situation where I can spend much time thinking about myself at the moment. Too many stresses that need to be gone before I can do that.

For me it extends to my words. I imagine it’s like that for others. I can’t listen to my voice. And I can’t reread things I write. Any spelling/grammar mistakes stay in my writing. And if don’t catch autocorrect errors as they are happening, those stay too😂

I’ve lived a lifetime trying not to be seen. If I didn’t have kids, I am not sure how much I would have hidden myself away.

I had so much potential for life. But I was born into a family that hated me from my birth.

My brother was my first abuser. I developed night terrors. I cried so much. I can remember these things. Brian never stopped terrorizing me. And he never faced consequences for sexually assaulting me. And I know without a doubt, he had never had a moment of remorse. I know without complete certainty that he has never spent a second considering how his grossly aggressive behavior towards me when I was a toddler may have harmed me. He uses my fear and my pain against me whenever he is able.

The traumas stared so early. I don’t have a reference to who I might have been without ptsd.

I’ve had chances to work on finding out.

There were a few years before my mother died and after I moved away from my ex where I had some emotional and psychological space to think about myself.

Brian took that from me. I don’t know what he was doing with my mother’s estate. But he made the pain stretch out for years. I wouldn’t know when I’d get threatening calls. People yelling about things that I couldn’t understand. I think it was in purpose. I would say, in tears, please I do not understand the jargon/ legalese, etc… I don’t know what this is about. But there would just be more threats and yelling. For years.

My life was gutted by the end. The world around me was tinged in black.

It was more years before I could start to look at my life with myself included in it again.

So it started to be lighter. I surrounded myself with dogs. I was outside every day. Things were quiet, blissful even sometimes.

Then the violent man showed up. My dad encouraged him and chastised me for not succumbing to more violence so my dad didn’t have to be bothered. I’ve been right back to pleading with my father to not just watch violence happen to me. I begged him, just this one time, don’t help the violent man hurt me. He always has. And he did this time too.

And he has been extremely violent. To me, to my home, to many animals. He has gotten groups of men to violently attack me and harass me. He got neighbors across the street to betray our ten year friendly coexistence. He has used contacts to aggressively come after me from the city and the misogyny I have encountered from the city and these men next door has been extreme beyond what I’ve ever experienced.

This needs to stop. I have not been able to be in my home and feel free from harassment and aggression from others. I try to be alone, in my home, and these people are coming to my home to make sure I am not able to have peace.

If I can ever take legal action I will in a second. I want restraining orders, or any legal means to keep all of these people from ever bothering me here in my home! or anywhere of course. but seriously, I’m not going to their homes. I want peace already.

When I can ignore the scum around, I focus on the important things. this earth has so many lovely things. I’m sick of the scum wasting my time.

I had a lovely day with the dogs. We took a pack nap. We had a new dog with us too. Sweet little boy.

Moonflower showed up. He didn’t run right away. But I still couldn’t get close. It’s nice to see him still showing up. Hopefully he only sees kind people from now on❤️

Something happened to Moonflower. He used to be excited to see me. I could pet him and he had no fear around me. After someone got him neutered he was apprehensive for a couple of days then back to his happy self.

The past few days he is afraid. He won’t come near me and runs at the slightest sound. I think someone hurt him in the past few days. He is acting like he has been hurt or scared by a person.

There are definitely people around me who would hurt any animal. They have and would be willing to again.

I used to think there were a lot of good people in Cleveland Heights. Unfortunately, I know now that that is not true. I’m shocked how many people are hostile towards animals. Most of the people are apathetic to other people as well. No matter what facade they put on, I’m too aware that there is often nothing good behind it.

Maybe I was naive before. I’ll never trust any of the people around me. They’ve shown who they are.

Poor Moonflower. I wish I could get him inside. Maybe he could feel safer.

💔💔

Brian Conley, born Douglas Brian Conley, December 16, 1963. Owner of Main Sail, LLC was the first person to sexually assault me.

I was a toddler. Under 5 yrs old. It’s hard to say because I remember my childhood years as a series of traumas and verbal abuse scenarios. 

Brian and his friends forced me to look at them with their pants off. Then they cornered me and yelled at me to not tell. 

I didn’t. They were constantly scaring me. All I remember is being terrified a lot, night terrors, and constant teasing from my brother and from my parents. 

There was always mean teasing. Not funny at all. 

There were always consequences for showing my pain and my fear. So as I grew up those fears were frequently spotted by predators. 

I was never safe. My family criminally neglected me, so I had no safe space. I didn’t even have a safe bedroom until I was in third grade and we moved to Hudson. 

My parents sent me to CVCA one year. Some fucking Walsh scum kept molesting me on the bus and no one helped me. The only people I felt safe with were the ‘bad girls’. They were kind to me, it was nice. So when they asked me to bring liquor, I brought a bottle from my parent’s cupboard! I’m proud of that. They drank it. It was awful so I only had that first sip. It was years before I got to an age where I wanted to drink with friends. 

It got me, and them, expelled, thank god!! That’s the only way I was going to get away from being molested all the time. I’m sorry they got caught. I’m glad I did. 

It wasn’t the last time I experienced being molested or raped. Not even close.

In fact, there has never once been a time that I have wanted to engage in sex or sexual activity. 

Never. I don’t like sex. I never have. Whether it’s because of my childhood or because I’m on an asexual spectrum somewhere I don’t know. I does not matter! 

It was always something that was done to me, coerced from me, or expected. 

Even during my marriage I used to wake up because he was having sex with me while I was sleeping. I had to drink to seem willing

Not one person has ever asked for consent without it being coerced. No one has ever been concerned with how I feel about a sexual interaction. No concern whether I enjoyed it or not. Never. 

My high school ‘boyfriend’ 

To hell with you Danny. I hope you rot horribly. He used to climb on top of me. I’d close my eyes and chant in my head “please be done, please be done,….”

I heard someone ask once if he felt weird about what he was doing. For context- at that point in my life I barely looked up at what was going on around me. I rarely talked. I couldn’t be home. But I was a teenager, so I didn’t want to be alone all the time. He was in college. 

I wouldn’t recognize him or most of the people that were around then because I was not able to interact a lot. 

What he did was rape me over and over. 

I’ve brought up Brian abusing me as a child to family. 

Not one of them will ever hold him accountable for anything he’s done to me. Every chance he’s had to harm me he has taken. He destroyed the little bit of life I had put together for myself after my mom died. She gave him the opportunity. I told her I would be hurt. 

Brian is a man though. They will use me, slander me, judge me, scapegoat me, shun me, and hate me. It will never matter what nightmares he has inflicted on me. They will continue to blame me for his abuse of me. It doesn’t matter how much pain, rape, and abuse I endured through my childhood because of Brian and my parents grooming me to be unable to understand I didn’t deserve it. That entire family will demonize me for suffering abuse and not being sparkly and happy about it. 

I hope karma comes to all of them for collectively committing and enabling a lifetime trauma on a vulnerable member of that family

Brian Conley, born Douglas Brian Conley, December 16, 1963. Owner of Main Sail, LLC was the first person to sexually assault me.

I was a toddler. Under 5 yrs old. It’s hard to say because I remember my childhood years as a series of traumas and verbal abuse scenarios.

Brian and his friends forced me to look at them with their pants off. Then they cornered me and yelled at me to not tell.

I didn’t. They were constantly scaring me. All I remember is being terrified a lot, night terrors, and constant teasing from my brother and from my parents.

There was always mean teasing. Not funny at all.

There were always consequences for showing my pain and my fear. So as I grew up those fears were frequently spotted by predators.

I was never safe. My family criminally neglected me, so I had no safe space. I didn’t even have a safe bedroom until I was in third grade and we moved to Hudson.

My parents sent me to CVCA one year. Some fucking Walsh scum kept molesting me on the bus and no one helped me. The only people I felt safe with were the ‘bad girls’. They were kind to me, it was nice. So when they asked me to bring liquor, I brought a bottle from my parent’s cupboard! I’m proud of that. They drank it. It was awful so I only had that first sip. It was years before I got to an age where I wanted to drink with friends.

It got me, and them, expelled, thank god!! That’s the only way I was going to get away from being molested all the time. I’m sorry they got caught. I’m glad I did.

It wasn’t the last time I experienced being molested or raped. Not even close.

In fact, there has never once been a time that I have wanted to engage in sex or sexual activity.

Never. I don’t like sex. I never have. Whether it’s because of my childhood or because I’m on an asexual spectrum somewhere I don’t know. I does not matter!

It was always something that was done to me, coerced from me, or expected.

Even during my marriage I used to wake up because he was having sex with me while I was sleeping. I had to drink to seem willing

Not one person has ever asked for consent without it being coerced. No one has ever been concerned with how I feel about a sexual interaction. No concern whether I enjoyed it or not. Never.

My high school ‘boyfriend’

To hell with you Danny. I hope you rot horribly. He used to climb on top of me. I’d close my eyes and chant in my head “please be done, please be done,….”

I heard someone ask once if he felt weird about what he was doing. For context- at that point in my life I barely looked up at what was going on around me. I rarely talked. I couldn’t be home. But I was a teenager, so I didn’t want to be alone all the time. He was in college.

I wouldn’t recognize him or most of the people that were around then because I was not able to interact a lot.

What he did was rape me over and over.

I’ve brought up Brian abusing me as a child to family.

Not one of them will ever hold him accountable for anything he’s done to me. Every chance he’s had to harm me he has taken. He destroyed the little bit of life I had put together for myself after my mom died. She gave him the opportunity. I told her I would be hurt.

Brian is a man though. They will use me, slander me, judge me, scapegoat me, shun me, and hate me. It will never matter what nightmares he has inflicted on me. They will continue to blame me for his abuse of me. It doesn’t matter how much pain, rape, and abuse I endured through my childhood because of Brian and my parents grooming me to be unable to understand I didn’t deserve it. That entire family will demonize me for suffering abuse and not being sparkly and happy about it.

I hope karma comes to all of them for collectively committing and enabling a lifetime trauma on a vulnerable member of that family

It doesn’t. I can go through day to day. I can take care of all the sweet animals around me. I can enjoy their beauty and the nature I see every day.

I can even have dreams and hopes. I’ve worked very hard my whole life and still do. I don’t mind. I’d love to be able to do some projects around my house though. I have dreams.

But even if people stop abusing me and the animals around here, it will take me a long time just to put things back in a normal state.

I’m always working on putting things straight. Physically, financially, emotionally.

But the threats to me and my surroundings are still here. The violent man was next door yesterday.

The non violent house on the other side is up for sale. The realtor buried animals alive. So it’s not nonviolent anymore. The family across the street are still flying monkeys for the violent man.

I still have to keep a protective watch over any animals here that I can.

And me, the violent man is nothing to be anything but that. People like that don’t change.

So I’m still physically isolated here.

Someday better people will be in the neighborhood. It was nice before. It will happen.

The bigger traumas will always be with me though. All the pain from my childhood. That marriage.

And I tried to move past those things. I didn’t well. I worked and supported my kids when child support didn’t come in for so many years.

I took them to classes, lessons, played and loved my time with them.

But the family who erased me, neglected me, and abused me made sure I was unsafe. Any chance they had to hurt me, cut me down, slander and scapegoat me.

I’m not a strong person. Im not able to engage in these games and whatever these things are these people do. All I can do is say please don’t. Please stop.

And then they punish me.

I experimented with standing up for myself. And trying to share my thought about things out loud.

They punished me, shunned me, shamed me, and slandered more.

I just don’t want to have to keep quiet all the time. I want to be able to talk about stuff. I’ve never in my life been allowed my voice.

And the Conley family, and relatives, still punish me for having tried to do so.

I am allowed to be an individual with thoughts, feelings, emotions, and responses all my own!!!!

There has never been a moment when the hatred I have received from family, and the ones who I loved the most, has been reasonable. It’s just misogyny.

I’m supposed to be the person they expect me to be. I am supposed to shut up and not make anyone feel uncomfortable for any harm or pain they cause me.

Shut up Jennifer. You’re not worth anything to the family Jennifer. You’re not important Jennifer. You’re wrong for existing Jennifer.

Fuck them.

Even if the people who I loved more than anything on this earth understood how bad what they did is, I could never trust them again.

That means I’ll never have anyone in my life I could trust. If they would hurt me like that. There’s no one who wouldn’t.

When I found out what they did a couple weeks ago, it made it clear that they never valued me like I thought they did.

These people were the first experience of real unconditional love with people I’d ever known. I never had that from my parents or brother. Now I know it was one way.

They can’t take that live from me though. It’s still feel it though I’ll never trust them.

How does one deal with such deep betrayal? How do I manage my days knowing the things these people are willing to do to me. Knowing there is no limit to the amount of harm that would come to me that they are absolutely fine with. (I don’t even know how to write that!)

I would have given my life for them without a thought. They know that. And I wasn’t even worth taking a moment to listen to me try to start opening up.

I tried. They punished me immediately. She shut me up and twisted my words around so fast.

I tried to get her to hear me. To hear that she’s again twisting my words to make me sound different than me. I wanted so badly to be able to have conversations with them like I was able to with some other people. It’s been new to me.

I’m was kept quiet my whole life. They punished me for wanting something different. I would have given them anything, even my life

First night in the 30s. Brr, I hope the little ones outside have found their straw stuffed beds.

There’s stuff I was thinking about today that I thought I wouldn’t write down. I’m probably going to change my mind. Why not? I started doing this because of a family that have tried to erase me since I was born. At least if I get everything possible down somewhere they won’t have succeeded.

I read a post saying kicking your underage child out of your home is abuse. I mean, of course. But I had to laugh. When my parents got divorced I was 12 or 13? It’s a blur of pain.

I was alone most of the time. Tossed between parents at the same time discarded and ignored by them both. I ended up sleeping at my friend’s house my freshman year because I never knew where they were. I’m not sure how long it was before they noticed. They usually didn’t notice when I didn’t come home. My dad took custody to continue to ignore me in his home. They’d come home bragging about their new car, or fancy dinner. I was trying to figure out how to duct take my torn boots so the snow didn’t soak through. Him and his wife traveled places so I was left behind a lot. It wasn’t much different from them being there.

The week before my senior final exams they packed up my stuff and I had to leave. I was 18 so they felt fine with it.

I couldn’t get to school so I had to go back later for my GED.

A couple years later, after I had my first daughter and was living in CT, I drove back to Cleveland with friends. I can remember the shock on their faces. Speechless. Both of my parents had moved without mentioning it to me. I had no idea where they lived. It didn’t surprise me, but I understood by their reactions that it was bad.

Of course I know how bad they were to me now. But it was normal treatment to me. They had spent my whole life gaslighting me into believing I deserved to be treated like that.

It never stopped either.

I married a man who treated me the same along with his family. It’s what I thought I deserved. I really believed for decades of my life that I was so fundamentally less than everyone else that I deserved neglect and deprivation.

If I want my basic needs met in some way, according to that family, I am the greediest, most selfish, manipulative person ever. They say these things to me while my dad and brother’s wives are all baubles and brands.

That basic insecurity as a kid is brutal. I’ve tried to search for any records from my childhood. Did anyone say anything about how neglected I was? Were there any reports? No medical records, no school records. Nothing. Nowhere.

My brother was diagnosed with some learning disability at some point. My parents made a big deal about poor Brian.

Since things run in families. I had hoped to maybe find something about me. I don’t know if I’ve always had just trauma related ptsd, or if there’s adhd in my trauma. They’re kinda the same .

They would have laughed off some kind of care or concern about me so I’m sure anything was thrown out.

I hate the whole Conley family so much. They abuse, then slander. Not one moment of remorse. Not once.

I have never heard any apology for such extreme neglect. Because they don’t feel it. Would love to see some karmic justice now.