She lived through it all (molestation, verbal abuse, rejection, rape, a stab by a broken bottle, lost a job, jobless, mental illness, a few suicidal attempts), she just effortlessly stood up after every knock down. It seemed effortlessly to others, but in reality took utter determination, guts and faith that this too shall pass. 

She lived through the looks of disappointment and frustration. She lived through the times when people said goodbye because she was too complicated or when they just gave up hope.
She became so scared of people, people who are unreliable, cruel, loveless, selfish, abusers and users, that she only found safety in the confinement of her home.
All this was doable.
It’s the recurring thoughts of the past and the lack of memory with today’s things that are breaking her. The feeling of losing complete control over ordinary things. The frustration of doing things over and over because she can’t remember if she did it the first time.
The constant feeling of reliving things with people. The confusion of did that really happen or was it just another flashback of something that never happened. 
Smelling and feeling the dust underneath her, reminds her that she stood up so many times. Why not fight this battle too?
It’s time to rise and stop hiding from the world, the world needs someone like her too. It’s time to breathe and live, really live.
I am her, and I’m a proud survivor.

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