Thank you.
For making me feel like I have no power.
For taking away my voice, my ability to form thoughts, my ability to sort out how I feel.

My ability to feel.

Thank you, for making me a stranger even to those closest to me.
Unable to reach out, to ask for help, unable to accept kindness or love.

Thank you for making me a prisoner in my own body.
For making it hard to look in the mirror. Making me live in my head, as a being completely separate from my limbs, my stretch marks, the little white rolls of my stomach.

Thank you.

Thank you for allowing me to feel my heart in my throat. For letting the ***** rise up in my throat, so I can let it out. It’s the only thing I can let out that gives me some kind of release.

Thank you for destroying my faith in a god, in others, and in myself.

Thank you for making me question.

Was it my fault?
Does God have pity on sinners who get hurt?
Was there something I could have done?

Thank you for breaking me.

Thank you for killing me before anything else could.