I still got that same urge to disappear. To take my people and go, hide us all away somewhere where no one and nothing could touch us. My therapist said it was part of my need for control, because control made me feel safe. I could acknowledge these things; I could understand how certain feelings and urges extended from trauma. But even understanding didn’t give me the control I needed. Control over myself. Over my brain, my fear, my doubts.
