What would I know about the human who’s supposed to be my best friend making large dramatic exits from our home only to reappear hours later?
What would I know about about being gaslit and blamed for their bad behavior?
What would I know about getting picked on by the one person I sacrificed my body for and fighting for their mental health while losing my own?
What would I know about working myself to death in the name of carrying my family through one financial crisis after another?
What would I know about sheltering my children from their father’s breakdowns and dangerous behavior?
What would I know about crying out for help and calling off the guards because I didn’t want people to know about what happened behind closed doors?
What would I know about having to call the crisis line without hesitation for my own child because I saw what lack of intervention would lead to?
What would I know about biting my lip and closing my eyes to dial 911 on a family member because they were no longer just a danger to themselves?
What would I know about having CPTSD because I loved someone blindly and thought I could save them?
What would I know? Apparently... nothing.
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