Teela Hart

Surviving Domestic Violence


This is a Fucking Rant! (Probably for my eyes only)

Please do not take this personally if you decide to read it at all.

It is not directed at any individual, but at a system of corruption and self-righteousness.

I am just me, looking through a rabbit hole skewed with nothing good and it’s painful and ugly.  No one wants to see the result of such a catastrophic set of events in a person’s life.  Especially that person, but it’s a necessary evil that I tend to need.  I have walked on eggshells forever.  This is a figurative smashing of those eggshells.

I really wanted to delete it and I probably should have.  But I cannot do that.

I’m not alone.  There are many survivors (of many different things) who feel this rage and they are not alone.  It’s important to me that those who do feel this way know that they are not alone.

Call it a lack of creativity in getting my point across.  Rebellion against holding my feelings in.  Call it whatever you like.

I mean no disrespect to any individual and that is where freedom of speech does come in as well as the freedom to choose not to read it.

I’m just being real here.



This is me.

Ranting to keep from exploding.

Although, I’m gonna fuckin hit the publish button of my own free will.

Un-coerced.  Un-censored.  Because if I don’t, I will fuckin explode.


It is however, directed at ANYONE who thinks they have all the answers, such as, but not limited to, Psychology, Physiology, Anatomy, or as I like to call ’em, distinguished members of the CTF, “the Card-Totin’ Fools”.  You are all being led around, like the most ignorant of all fucking animals.  Blind sheep-like sonsabitches tryin’ to lead the only fucking people that have the insight, wisdom and goddam experience necessary to walk this tight-rope we call fuckin’ survival.  I have two prized, golden, words for you.

FUCK OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Has anyone ever told your stupid-mother-fucking-idiotic-ass that it is possible to unscramble an egg?

They fuckin’ lied to you!   You cannot.  It is NOT possible.

This is the only way I know how to explain any of this shit to anybody, ever!  Ever!

As it is impossible to walk in someone’s shoes besides your fuckin’ own, get over your literate self and learn something from a veteran survivor of a constant war you know nothing of.  I am a SUR-VIV-OR!  (I decided to break that down for all the “schooled” mother-fuckers.)  Just in case.

I walked out of nursing school one day with all the wealth of knowledge available to me and I thought I knew it, ALL.  I learned real fuckin’ quick.  I DIDN’T.  I had to learn a little bit about the knowledge base I’d been given.  I learned it from the fuckin’ grunts.  I learned most of what I know from the grunts.  The VALUABLE, “nobodies” as you so eloquently put it.

Now let’s move on.  I hope all the idiots, in places they don’t fuckin’ deserve to be, got that shit.

WAR ZONE ENTRANCE: (Like there’s a fuckin’ sign other than bodies droppin’)

Fuckin’ CHAOS!  (I hope that paints the picture for ya)

Collateral damage is fuckin’ gynormous!  (Clearer now?)

Not only has the soldier been wounded, but also the nurse, the doctor, the medic, every-fuckin-body else is walking around with one limb and losing vital life’s blood caring for the most wounded, life-threatening injuries.  Arterial bleeds, eviscerations and avulsions (brains and guts hangin’ out).

Now first of all:  Maybe second, third, fourth and fifth of all.

I’m all about prevention.

Hell, let’s not have this fuckin’ war. (My arms are in the air and I got a real goddam sarcastic look on my face) because it’s

too late for some as the war’s been had and we’re all fucked, the only next logical step is…………?

Anyone care to make an oblivious guess?


It’s called DAMAGE-FUCKIN’-CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  TRIAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!


This wound gets a bandaid.

This wound gets surgery.

This wound gets dead.


I live every-fuckin’-day in?

You guessed it!


I’ve briefed you on all the information that I have.  You got it all now? Chaotic so far, right?

Now, live it, like my children and I did and and still do and then come back and tell me somethin’ valuable.

I’m done!