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Illustration by @_ximena.arias
Tw: physical abuse
Yesterday my dad hit me. I cried so much and I didn't want to be touched again. I didn't feel like eating yesterday. I didn't feel like having breakfast at the same table as my dad. I don't like being here. It feels like he might show up any second. And I live with that constant thought at the back of my mind. My didn't stop me when he was hitting me. And I was hurt I didn't know what to do. My body feels the slight pain in my bones when I recall the way he hit me. And I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. As much as I hated it. I can reasonably be upset and push them away. And I feel guilty. Thinking whether I am at fault. But then even if I try to forget and get past it , my body remembers the pain. It remembers how scared and helpless I was. I do not recall properly what happened when he was hitting me but, I remember the blurry faces and accusatory tone in their voices. They asked me to let go of it, they tell me that I shouldn't be negative. I may have been "negative", but at least I don't feel anything anymore. There is just indifference all around. And maybe it is the indifference that will get me through this.
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Part of the Life collection
Updated on September 01, 2022
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