My identity

I am not a coke addict.

 

I am not a crossdresser.

 

I am an abused spouse. I have 9 months in a support group for victims of abusive marriages to prove it.

 

I am alone.  And, like you, afraid of dying alone.

 

I have a cat I love very much.  Ceci.

 

I have a problem with self-criticism.

 

I am not cruel in crowds, even when forced by circumstances, to paraphrase the Polish poet.  I would never do that.

 

I am working hard to overcome depression and PTSD.  I have established a ring of safety around myself to keep out bad actors.  I'm learning how to enforce it.

 

I think "eye for an eye" justice is for those who could not form attachments with their parents at an early age.  Which is why I respect Bob Marley so much.  He remained a radical peace activist anyway, and he stole his absent white father's name back!

 

Crying is the best release I know.  Ketamine-assisted psychotherapy is the best healing protocol I've found so far.

 

I have more love to give than anyone can accept.  I know I can't accept it for myself.

 

 

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