Sometimes the hardest part of all this is the number of times I have to sit there and tell someone how appallingly I was treated for so many years.
I’ve come a long way in spite of bumping into the likes of Halfman as I’ve done it.
But I hate having to admit how much my abuser took from me. How much I have yet to claw back – the pieces of myself I have yet to rediscover and reassemble.
I don’t find strength in admitting that. And having to do it over and over, even to people who understand how insidious it was and still is.
I don’t want to be that person. But I am.
But I left. I had the strength to leave and to fight every day since.
He didn’t get all of me. That is the only bit I am proud of.
1000 days 