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Making sense of me

Today I’ve really struggled to make sense of who I really am. It hasn’t been a good day. Anxiety has ruled today. I know I shouldn’t let things get to me.

Writing this I know why. It’s almost a year since my life fell apart.

I think the issue is that I try to hard. I’ve had a day of triggers. Just little things but they all add up. I think I’m still grieving for the childhood I lost. I think all the festivities of the last few weeks have triggered me more than I thought.

This is the first real bad day I’ve had for a long time I now need to consolidate on the work I’ve done over the last few months.

Memories of a lost childhood.

I have been thinking of trying to put together a book of survivor prose, poetry, art. To help survivor charities here in the UK.

The thing is I just don’t know how. I’ve written some poetry and prose.

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