Sometimes, I think I'm the only one to remember it.
But then, isn't that the most important thing.
Even if no one else does, I do.
It's eight years ago today that I got on a plane and escaped
my abusive marriage.
I'm still convinced that most people that know me from that
life, if not all, think I'm completely bonkers and made it all up.
At least those that listened and perhaps heard my cries, but
let them fall to deaf ears.
After years of being told I was crazy, I often wonder if perhaps
I'm not even just a little.
But here I am. For better or worse, crazy or not or a little.
I still have my moments where I fear the other shoe will drop
and my world will fall apart around me.
That the floor will crumble from under me and I will end up
back in the darkness.
I still struggle with certain sounds and tones of voice. Certain
smells or emotions coming from another person.
If I look up C-PTSD, I match a lot of the symptoms.
Though there are people that would say I was full of shit.
There are people that would say what I went through wasn't
even abuse.
That it was all in my head.
That it was made up.
That I was...........crazy.
But they didn't live through it.
It didn't happen to them.
One of the hardest things for me is to avoid the
"it wasn't as bad as........" syndrome.
I thank you all here who have stuck by me
Who supported me
Who have been my friend
A voice of wisdom
A light in the darkness
THANK YOU!!!
