Life seems to get harder the more aware of it you become, or at least that is my story. I listened to the stories hundreds of women (and a few men) in my 10 years as a therapist, their abuse, rape, incests (usually by "trusted" family members), kidnappings, loss, depression, hurt and even murder. Their coping mechanisms often made them hard to love, but I did. It made them hard to see as having worth to "society", but I did. My heart broke, until it learned to somehow build a wall around it so I could be there, fully there, the next time we meet, and not lost in grief. It's how I deal, my coping, my wall.
Getting closer to middle life and my FB wall is filled less and less of marriages and fewer babies being born (although they are there occasionally and if often cause that ache in my arms to hold my baby again). People don't often post the personal hardships, the divorces, the affairs, the abuse, the story that truly could be a Date Line Special Report. Yet we have shared in the pain of that of our dear friends. This was not how I expected the story to go.
be. How is there possibly that much hate, how? I feel I can often view things objectionably, usually there are two sides. But Germany, I can't wrap my mind around it, and this, our own country. The hatred by so many, and to make it known (the KKK mask are gone, the evil still prevails), to want to create a movement. I'm dumbfounded, yet it is here.