Sometimes I forget that I am one of the lucky ones who made it out alive. There are and were so many people, children, babies that were not as lucky as I.

I am having a very hard time right now and I just keep thinking about all the others who did not make it. Those people will never have a chance to tell their stories or write blogs. Some of them may have never been loved or accepted as themselves.

I am lucky because I do have a very knowledgeable therapist who specializes in DID. Some people spend years and years searching for “that therapist” and never find them.

I recently went to see one of my main abusers because one of my parts needed to do something before this person passes away.

As we looked into this persons eyes, we just could not help but wonder why did you pick us. What was so special about us and how many others are there still living on the inside?  How many other souls did you try to break?

Why do I have to be lucky…


One thought on “Lucky

  1. I think your last sentence says a great deal about your abusers, “How many other souls did you try to break?” My T often reminds me that “abusers” break their own souls, lose their own chances of redemption along the way thru their lives by repeatedly trying to take the innocence from children. Maybe you survived to help others.

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