What gave me the strength? Strange maybe, but fear played a big part; I’d find hiding places and didn’t speak all that often, was more of an observer. Didn’t stop the physical abuse, but being “invisible” for the most part, kept me alive. Childhood was grim, junior high was mostly awful but then came high school and I managed to make friends. I lived at friends houses periodically, which was a dream compared to my real “home life”. Friends parents were so kind and accepted me right in, I felt like I belonged.

I remain scarred - death was and is my ultimate safe place.

My Nmom passed in November. Feel like most of me is dead by now as well. My sister and I remain close (we were separated when I was around 15 and she was 19) - I missed her for many years, though overall, I was so happy she broke free. Still am. Happy for my brother as well.