Dream about my moms house

* i didn’t used to be able to dream about it without being horrified, then slowly i started to dream about being in her room and it’s dark and gloomy and dusty & that i’m helping her clean it up, then it kept getting more and more ‘normal’ looking and now, like this morning, it looked like her regular old room before i saw her being stabbed in it. so fascinating. time and processing changes so much, anyway…

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Watching True Crime stories as a survivor of attempted murder

I’ve said this before, but I think this is the real issue with most things that are violent that I see on the news and in documentaries/movies/TV

I no longer have the option of filtering out these scary horrific things in the world.

I used to think “These things happen to other people” and feel that whole ‘fuck… that’s Craaaaaaazy!” but now I know these things don’t just happen to others, they happen to me. They happen to my family. And once something like this happens, you can’t hide behind that mentality of ‘others’ anymore. I know it could happen anytime…

 

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