A little down. A little angry. A little depressed.
Normal feelings when experiencing the fallout of emotions from a childhood racked with physical, sexual and verbal abuse and pain. No safe outlet, no safe place to hide.
In childhood there was one way to survive - get through it. Eat, pull out my hair, wet the bed, latch onto safe adults, escape.
In adulthood there are more ways to survive - conquer it. Drive recklessly, cut, drink alcohol, attempt suicide, overeat, isolate, images of hurting or killing perpetrators, release.
None of these are healthy. All of them have consequences.
Just for today, I don't care.
I wish I had a gun and access to the perpetrators who made scars on my body and in my mind.
They'd all be dead.
No regrets.
None.
