3

"I was seven when it started. Or was I eight? I've been told trauma can distort your memories, but I was in second grade--that I remember. The bathroom doesn't look the same as it did when it started, but there would be moments when I would walk in and see my figure on the floor. Closing my eyes, I can remember the shame and the confusion I felt lying on the cold tiles. Three years I spent laying on those tiles. For three years I was convinced that what I was doing was normal, but I wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone. Three years of my memories were completely blocked out to protect myself. And then, one day, the walls that kept those memories locked away broke, and like a flood, it drowned my mind in misery and shame. Fifteen years, I blamed myself. One day, I came to recognize: It wasn't my fault."