
Do you know what I realized during this lockdown? It takes so much time to heal wounds of the heart, mind, and soul. I will be two years separated from this monster my children call “dad,” but the pain of his torture on me is still there. Every time I see him, I panic. I have difficulty breathing, and my nerves are all acting up. I know he cannot hit me anymore or cannot threaten me. We are past that. It’s just that my body is still traumatized from everything, and no matter how much I try to hide it, it shows. The bastard is even taunting me. It seems that he enjoys seeing me flinch and suffer.