It’s hard to even acknowledge that you’ve been affected because you know people have gotten through so much worse. How can you even suggest that your symptoms are comparable to a veteran or a refugee when all you had was someone yell at you and slap you around a little? And you hear the same doubts when you talk about it… It couldn’t have been that bad or you would have left.
But looking back that same thought kept me from leaving. I can’t run from this because people have had to put up with so much worse. And it can’t be that bad because I haven’t left yet. I will know when I can’t take it anymore and then I can leave. It turns out, though, that you can absorb much more than you realize. The threshold keeps getting pushed out further and further because you can always think of something worse. I’m not getting hit so I can take it. It’s not leaving marks so I can take it. It’s not hurting my kids so I can take it.
Even still I’m not sure I’ve earned these symptoms. I didn’t fight in a war or see people die. Do I admit I’m weak by confessing how little it took to make me this way?