It's about mid-day Saturday, and I've been crying all day. I can't tell which hurts worse...not having my daughter or the new memory that I continually relive. Yesterday was such a good day. I went over 24 hours without crying and was feeling so hopeful. Too bad it doesn't last that long. I won't bore you with the details of either. Frankly I don't feel like talking or writing, but feel like I need to. I'm so grateful that my parents are letting Agnes and me stay at their house for a stint until I'm able to cope and manage these things better. I hate the way this stuff makes me feel. There is something helpful, though, that my mother brought to my attention. Sooo many women have been sexually abused in one way or another, and many have had to endure the nastiness of repeat offenders. Sometimes it's hard not to feel alone in this stuff. I think it's probably like that with problems that everybody faces. We're taught to not talk about it, swallow the shame and hurt, and end up wounded, suffering people. We can feel the pain, but we don't have to suffer. Hopefully you all have people who help hold you up. It's a place where you find your true friends and loved ones. I know I have, and I'm eternally grateful to them. I'm going to go play with Agnes right now. It's a beautiful day outside, and I'm hoping that it will permeate my soul. It needs it right now. Thanks for reading.
