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    Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too!
    Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too!
    Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too!
    Ebook45 pages5 hours

    Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too!

    By Nellie Cake

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Hiding mental disorders around others is hard for most. I always wonder if others see my damaged face, my permanent scars, my swelled, bruised, and sagging eyes from the many years of hard life and waking up with PTSD, Depression, and Bi-Polar Depression. As the day wears on I try to control it, but it seeps in to threaten and question my existence. Even if another human is in the same room my mind, thoughts and memories still plague and hurt me making it hard to hide.
    PTSD is not just affecting our returning service men; it's apparent in anyone who has experienced all types of trauma. Along with Depression and Bi-Polar Depression I also have PTSD from the many (as in hundreds) of rapes, beatings, five children that were stolen, abusive child-hood, and that building that fell on me.
    In the mind of a person trying to control these mental and physical disorders; it takes a lot of energy and most of the day for all my thoughts to process the past traumas. Even during daily routines I still have to continue processing everything horrifying that has happened to me.
    It all started with the abuse and beatings from my parents, the first baby my parents stole from my arms, being raped by my Uncle Roy, my older brothers, cousins, and the hundreds of beatings and rapes by strange men. Not to mention the building that fell on me. All this brings us to the present moment.
    My parents beat on me and my siblings when we were really little just because we needed to take a shit and or piss. We didn't have an outhouse or indoor plumbing so finding a place to take a shit or a piss was tricky when you're scared out of your mind because you know you're going to get a beating for your body parts doing their job.
    For people like me with PTSD, Depression and Bi-Polar Depression it usually takes all day to process all the trauma and I've never really joined the present world around me. People like me with the combination of these mental disorders can look straight at you, carry on a normal conversation while our minds are still processing past memories of traumatic experiences. Though we seem to be in life and having conversations, our minds still have to process all the past traumas before actually mentally catching up and joining in.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNellie Cake
    Release dateMar 12, 2021
    ISBN9781005593940
    Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too!
    Author

    Nellie Cake

    Howdy; I'm Nellie Cake and these are "Memoirs From My Outhouse." I write adult only, violence, murders, rapes, beatings, and nasty words. True stories of murders, crimes, violence, rapes, drugs, incest, alcoholism, inmates, stolen children, homelessness, and erotic murder thrillers. I have forty years of experience in these subjects and forty years of sobriety from drugs and alcohol. I'm an Appalachian inbred Hillbilly and ain't nothing wrong with that. I also write Erotic Murder Thriller series.People who write similar stories usually are not an inbred Hillbilly which makes my story unique. Names were changed to get family and people from the past to shut the hell up. To be a real smart ass extended family is only mentioned. Hillbillies do make moonshine, grow weed, carry double barrel shot guns, and stay bare-foot. I guess city folk wants me to wash my cover all's more often. We don't eat the road kill lesson it's soft. If it's stiff the dogs get it.Four of my children were stolen like I'm a baby factory, the fifth became an armed bank robber with Jesse James. I was kidnapped, beat and raped at nine then witnessed the same man beat, rape and my two nine year old Hillbilly girl-friends. i witnessed the brutal beating and murder of an elderly man.My second husband was a wannabe Clint Eastwood carrying and arson, beating on me and hunting me like an animal. Many pregnancies I lived in the snow then many years hitching in snow hunting for them. Drug dealing and exotic strip dancing were a way to survive in the wake of being annihilated by spouses. I dated my home confinement officer and was honored with a Governor's pardon.My stomach exploded and took a year to walk. Lucifer threw a 16,000 pound building on me causing gangrene and took a year to walk. Worse case of MRSA in history took a year to walk. I maintained employments and continued writing through destitution, pregnancies, savagery, prisons, and northern winters.Life's accomplishments: I won six turkeys, nine trophies battling cocks, birthed five kids, won ten cakes, and caught nine ten pound Bass. I possess gloating rights to angling stories and jaded memories. I want a place for authors of any genre and victims of any crime to have a voice without family or people judging, preaching, bossing, and interfering.I understand they are Holier than me, but they make authors of my genre feel we're a bad image or influence on their precious perfect family. Every story I write is true. God is real, but He can not physically stop rapist, abusers, murders nor narcissist.It just wasn't working for me to be quiet all these years about so many rapes because I never told. So I started writing fiction, erotic murder thrillers. Morbid ways of killing all the men who raped me, and there were many, became my inspiration to write erotic murder thrillers.copyright 2018/Nellie Cake

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      Book preview

      Hillbilly P.T.S.D. Shit Storm...Kill the Kids Too! - Nellie Cake

      Hillbilly PTSD Shit Storm...Kill The Kids Too?

      Hiding mental disorders around others is hard for most. I always wonder if others see my damaged face, my permanent scars, my swelled, bruised, and sagging eyes from the many years of hard life and waking up with PTSD, Depression, and Bi-Polar Depression. As the day wears on I try to control it, but it seeps in to threaten and question my existence. Even if another human is in the same room my mind, thoughts and memories still plague and hurt me making it hard to hide.

      PTSD is not just affecting our returning service men; it's apparent in anyone who has experienced all types of trauma. Along with Depression and Bi-Polar Depression I also have PTSD from the many (as in hundreds) of rapes, beatings, five children that were stolen, abusive child-hood, and that building that fell on me.

      In the mind of a person trying to control these mental and physical disorders; it takes a lot of energy and most of the day for all my thoughts to process the past traumas. Even during daily routines I still have to continue processing everything horrifying that has happened to me.

      It all started with the abuse and beatings from my parents, the first baby my parents stole from my arms, being raped by my Uncle Roy, my older brothers, cousins, and the hundreds of beatings and rapes by strange men. Not to mention the building that fell on me. All this brings us to the present moment.

      My parents beat on me and my siblings when we were really little just because we needed to take a shit and or piss. We didn't have an outhouse or indoor plumbing so finding a place to take a shit or a piss was tricky when you're scared out of your mind because you know you're going to get a beating for your body parts doing their job.

      For people like me with PTSD, Depression and Bi-Polar Depression it usually takes all day to process all the trauma and I've never really joined the present world around me. People like me with the combination of these mental disorders can look straight at you, carry on a normal conversation while our minds are still processing past memories of traumatic experiences. Though we seem to be in life and having conversations, our minds still have to process all the past traumas before actually mentally catching up and joining in.

      As I stated earlier; the process of all the trauma playing out in my mind started when I was really little. My siblings and I had no where to piss and shit. When the urge to piss or shit hit I went into a panic and had to find some where hidden to empty my bowels and bladder without dad and mom knowing. It happened so many times that I knew I had to hide some where to release. To this day mom and dad beating on all us kids still confuses and haunts me. I vaguely remember dad attempting to build an outhouse in our back yard with no door and all the neighbors could see us taking a shit and pissing. They yelled nasty things at us. Toilets with indoor plumbing were the best invention ever. A couple of my younger brothers took the blame and beatings when our parents found

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