seeing the one you love but not being able to touch, when their comfort is what you crave most, actually makes you feel worse, and more depleted, than if you had not seen them at all.
We all stitched together facades that we were all okay. Fine. Normal. Of course we weren’t. You can’t go through sustained cruelty and terror for a large swathe of your life and not talk about it and be okay. It bites you on the arse big time.
