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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