content — child ab*se, g*nerational tr**ma
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in early 2016, i suddenly started crying & screaming in the middle of the night in the basement flat of a house in the middle of nowhere, germany, where i lived for a few weeks.
i wrote a poem that i can't find right now.
is the only line i remember right now.
the most kindness i experienced as a child was through a handful of years of the company of my paternal grandmother, with whom i did not even share a single 1 of my 3 spoken languages. that's just one of the many, many, many reasons i talk weird{positive}, & my best friend is somebody who can't speak english { my cat }.
but i always knew that my grandmother, at one point, abused my abusive father herself, too. so that made things a bit complicated.
the 3 humans i spent the most time with as a young child were:
my sexually, physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually abusive father,
my emotionally abusive mother whom my abusive father also abused who then abused me,
& my paternal grandmother, who {at least} once, also abused my abusive father.
life is fucked up that way.
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this wasn't the poem, bc i lost the poem. i hope i find it again one day.
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generational trauma is a dark thing. & if i can break the cycle with no money & no friends in a fucked up country like this, so can you.
Per month
Per month
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