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My first childhood memory is not one that I want to remember, but I can’t forget – I am still in diapers, hiding under the kitchen sink and being pulled out by my arm, forced onto the lap of the red-haired man. My diaper pulled off. I learned to look out the window and watch the leaves.
Read more: Depression: The Most Rejected One
This was my life for as long as I can remember. I yearned for someone to love me, to show me, real love. My childhood was the same story just used for pleasure, no love. I gave up and married at 16. I lived in my depressed and disassociate state until I saw her. For a year I have known love, at least I thought.
She has multiple personalities disorder and the one personality that sabotages her happiness came out to visit me. I let this one know I love her too very much as well. I got a good beating for my efforts and still, my love was strong because I got through to her.
Read more: Abuse: My Past, Future and Happiness
My love asks me what happened to my face again and again and I said I would never lie. She, you know which one, did this. We went through this all that day until she hung her head and said: “I remember”. She left me to save me from her and jumped off a bridge. She survived but I am still alone and depressed again. I give up. I have loved once maybe that is all I get. I don’t know what is the most hurtful – loving or not knowing love at all.