As I was growing up in a home where I was physically, emotionally, and sexually abused, where the adults were addicted to substances such as alcohol or drugs, where chaos thrived, I lived in denial. Even when I knew in my mind and in my heart that something was amiss, but wasn’t sure what; that my life was unmanageable, but wasn’t sure why; that one day I would be free but wasn’t sure when, I lived in denial. Even when I had an unrelenting hope that one day, my life would be different, I wouldn’t ever again have to suffer these atrocities, and the hurt would suddenly disappear when I was gone, I lived in denial.
“Hope is the denial of reality.”
My denial was an unconscious process. At first, I recognized inappropriate…
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