The mental injury I suffered at the tender age of twelve, which has haunted me on and off much of my life, has been again resurrected.
As many of us are trying to cope with the universal crisis at hand, some, including myself, must cope without an understanding or caring support system.
We are ridiculed for our fears, and instead of being offered compassion when uncontrollable anxiety strikes, those to whom we turn — stomp on the accelerator and we are frozen in a state of unrelenting tachycardia. A state which only amplifies the PTSD induced anxiety already present.
Why do I write so realistically of the damaged?
Because I was damaged long ago, and have lived my life teetering on the line which when crossed leads to breaking.