In our dreams of becoming mothers, we pictured it blissful and beautiful. We imagined sitting in a rocking chair, singing lullabies to a sleepy, happy baby.
A violent self-degradation rears its head today. Like a dragon over my wasteland, torching everything. It brings me to despair, emptiness. Resignation.
18 years of PTSD – I cry with love and with loss, shame and guilt, anger and sadness. I scream silently. For 18 years I’ve been telling people I’m fine.
This will be a process, and at this point I’m unsure what people’s responses will be. But I’m certain it will reach at least one person. That’s a victory