I know this is a long shot, but I need to get this off my chest before it completely consumes me. For years, I’ve carried scars, not just visible ones, but deep, hidden wounds that life has inflicted. They’re the reason I usually keep people at arm’s length, especially in spaces meant for healing. You see, I’ve been part of a mental health support group for over a year now, a safe haven where everyone is battling their own demons. I joined hoping to mend myself, not to form attachments, because honestly, I felt too broken for anyone to truly connect with.
My Secret Crush: Can My Trauma Ever Let Me Find Love?
Published Anonymously
Submitted by a real person and published with their consent. Identity is never revealed.