This car sees me to the city many times, most of the time drunk and high. It is my time machine- taking me to places far from what I have known- making everything disappear into a muddled past. I am willing to let my former days feel like ages gone by.
When spring comes, I park my car at the town beach and sleep in it. I have clothes and snacks- most of which I have stolen. I live in my car. It's a step up from sleeping in the streets. And that was a step up from being under my parents' roof.
Under my sleeping bag, on a cold Vermont morning and sporting a hazy hang-over, I realize this is not exactly paradise. But, it is damn close.
Child Abuse, Sexual Abuse, PTSD, Anxiety, Self-harm, Cutting, Depression, Survivor, Survivor of childhood abuse, Postpartum depression, postpartum psychosis, OCD, Recovered memories, Repressed memories, Spousification, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide, Teen Suicide, bullying, drug abuse, incest, memoir, Attachment Disorder, reactive Attachment Disorder, Physical Abuse, Mental illness
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