Tonight was a really bad PTSD flashback anxiety filled night. I hate that my abuser can still get to me even though he’s dead. I hate that something as innocent as a father hugging his young daughter and son can send me flipping out. I hate that I could feel my abuser near me all night. I hate that I shied away from any advance my husband made at me tonight, even when he offered to rub my feet that were painful with neuropathy. This night needs to end quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Until next time

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