I can’t remember.

I’m rebloging a few old blogs I wrote and reread and found them to be helpful now.

NOT MY SECRET...the journey towards healing from abuse

I remember these three days. The picture with just me was taken when I returned from a job at seaworld. I almost ripped this picture up. The  tear at the top with the tape is where I decided I couldn’t destroy a picture that I seemed to sacrifice my entire childhood for. The angry face…That is the man’s house who molested me. See…I never could get away from him even in a picture. I remember the day of the picture on the top left. A newspaper was there that day in Indiana Beach and took that picture of me and the partner I was skiing with for the afternoon ski show. I blocked out the men’s faces for their privacy. I loved this costume for some reason. I kept the picture because I loved the costume. I remember everything from that day. I was 17 years old. I remember looking…

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