It’s been seven years since my first husband violently assaulted me at gunpoint and then took his own life with that gun, forcing me to witness it.
You’d think seven years, inching ever closer to the decade point, would erase a lot of memories, anxiety, PTSD, and sadness. And it does. But it doesn’t release me from all of it. As the weeks got closer to this “anniversary”, I could feel my body remembering it was close. I started having unpleasant dreams again, anxiety, restless sleep, and then