Nothing will make it better. The shame clings to me like a slip filled with static. It moves with me – it molds to my very essence. It doesn’t go away. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I am not normal. I carry all this anger and pain and this overwhelming shame. I fantasize about what it would be like if I didn’t exist. If I was never born. If I never existed he could not have hurt me. How lovely it would have been to have never been abused.
LINK: What if she never was
