Its Tuesday of the second week of Kate's summer vacation and I am tired. She hasn't been sleeping well because she keeps dreaming about people killing her. How did I get to place in my life where my 13 year old is dreaming about people ( including Kevin) killing her.
My home was supposed to be a safe place for my kids. A place where kids who did not have safety and security could find it and grow into strong resilient humans whose adverse childhood experiences did not define who they were and instead it was a place of trauma and pain.
It makes me so sad.
I wish this was not our reality and I do not see a way through this to the other side. I feel as though there is never going to be another side but instead just a life full of brokenness because I did not see the signs or listen to the warnings.
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