As this is mental health month, I’m going to talk some about the lingering effects of the abusive men in my life. I think the title makes it clear, but just to make absolutely sure no one gets a horrible shock reading this:
I’ll be talking about mental, emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse and the impact they’ve had on me and my life.
I’m doing this as a cathartic exercise, and in the hopes that it will help someone. I want to remind people that you’re not alone in your suffering, that we can get through this. That there is so much more to us than our abusers and the abuse we suffered.
(This will likely be a long post).
It started when I was a baby, or a toddler. Very young.
My very first memory was being sat in a high chair out in the patio, and a wasp…
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