I called the RAINN hotline and told a complete stranger how my father and my uncle abused me, starting with the age of 3. It was the first time I was speaking out loud about the abuse and bringing it to light after a roughly 28 years of amnesia.
The minute memories resurfaced, I put my life on hold, curled up into a ball and wanted to sleep a lot. Many people call this depression, although I don't think I was really depressed, I was just overwhelmed.
I stopped working, I stopped functioning. Taking a shower was a complex activity that I couldn't wrap my mind around. At times I would eat enormous quantities of food, just to bring myself back into reality when I would feel the stomach ache. I was on a different planet: the abuse planet, reliving every goddamn detail of every lost memory I ever managed to somehow forget.
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