August 12th. Eight years ago today my life was forever changed. I walked into that Chicago office, So desperate, so exhausted, so full of hope... Scarlet carpets, polished brass, bone-white molding; Whitewashed imagery of a promised sanctuary. “He’s the one person...
Emotional abuse IS physical abuse. I was dying for most of my teenage years. I mean literally, in a hospital, 73 pounds, not enough blood running through my veins, dying. When I was 13 years old I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. The doctor said it was the worst...
One of the common after-effects of being an abuse survivor is that you may be haunted by terrifyingly vivid nightmares that bring back unpleasant and unfortunately familiar emotions. Such dreams are a regular occurrence for me, and last night I found myself quite...