I have had no safety in my life. I also have no flight instincts, I am all fight all the time. I fight for my kid, my friends, strangers, occasionally myself. I know no comfort or what it’s like to come home to love. Maybe one day I will, but most days I believe I am not meant for love.
Reposted from
Willow
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It’s a lot of mess is all I can think of now.
Few beating kicks etc a lot of put downs. Last time I moved was with youngest son and a goldfish and barest of necessities. One bedroom. Son slept sleep there I had a cot in living room/ table area.
Best time.
Not bad now.
I understand. My love language is safety, and I'llprobablynever know what that is. I was, am more of a flight person, and it was stressful af when I couldn't just leave. My fight kicks in with invisible illness and social causes.