It was easier to reject, blame and hate myself than to potentially have to face a reality and world where I’m not seen, where I don’t belong, where I’m not loved. At least by pointing out everything I did to deserve what happened gave me hope that if I could fix that I still had a chance at life and at belonging. That was easier for me, the child and adolescent me, to conceptualize and I’ve built my adult life around that vulnerable core. I’m protecting wounds that I believe aren’t wounds but simply an intrinsic part of me. So what do you do when you feel identified with the pain? You sure don’t want to face it because that’s death. If you wanna live you have to avoid yourself at all costs and keep focused on this makeshift existential bandaid you’ve built on top of your psyche. Out of feeling out of mind? Perhaps. But never out of heart. Never out of soul.