Life has a way of throwing seemingly insurmountable challenges at us. Sometimes, these difficulties are magnified, especially when the source of our struggles comes from within our own family. The very people who are supposed to support and uplift us can sometimes be the ones who create the most unbearable situations for us.

Anxiety became a part of me long before I ever knew how to spell it. It was like a constant presence, always lurking in the background, waiting to take over. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t on edge, always waiting for the next moment of chaos. Being a sensitive child, I absorbed the tension around me like a sponge until it felt like it had become a part of me. My apprehensive nature would stir awake in the darkness of our house, and it wasn’t long before I bore the brunt of it.

I arrived at Fairmount in a haze of confusion and despair, my stay there mercifully brief—just 24 hours. But in that short time, I met him—a young boy walking aimlessly across the corridors like me. He stood out immediately, starkly contrasting the dull gray walls that enclosed us. Blonde hair and blue eyes had always been my favorite combination. He looked so different from everyone else, effortlessly cool, like the world didn't weigh on him as heavily as it did on me.

By then, abuse had become an essential part of my life. There were days when I was beaten like an animal, and there were those when everything was silent. I spent weeks contrasting these vastly different situations until I was no longer fearful of my partner. The emotions of fear and relief were replaced by numbness, wherein I would sit blankly when he laid his hand on me countless times a week.