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I think I’ve forgotten how to cry.

These days it often feels like I’m on the verge of crying – that pressure behind the eyes building, tears glistening just enough to moisten and, occasionally for a single tear (or two) to escape – mostly unnoticed as I try to hide (them).

*he is here, and everywhere and yet always still a ghost haunting. me.

And the past. The lifetime of people I loved and needed and depended on that said one thing, then did another and denied they ever said the first thing in the first place.

You know what the legacy of 40+ years of gaslighting is?

I doubt everything.

Everything I think and say and feel and experience.

Someone says they don’t remember my telling them that thing and I have to walk myself slowly, with gentle and thorough care though my memories to see if I did or didn’t say it. And, no matter how certain the memory of having said it feels – I always retain some shred of self-doubt.


When is the other shoe going to drop?

I’m getting lightheaded from holding my breath.

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