Somewhere in the back of my mind is a box of memories. Though they belong to me, the contents are still a mystery. Most of what’s inside was too scary for me to look at for very long, before it was quickly shoved inside.
Over time, the unspoken grew bigger, scarier. EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) therapy helped me pry open that box.
Every Monday, for two years I willingly revisited and explored the contents. Twenty-six adverse childhood experiences were catalogued.
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