I'm extremely nervous to the point I want to back out of going back home this soon. It may have only been days since I left, but it feels like ten lifetimes had already passed for all that has happened since then. I'm not going to lie; part of me wants the three of them to see me looking the way I do now; I guess it's only natural to feel that way.
Part of me is genuinely worried about my dad. I guess it's not that easy separating the bad from the good; I still recall the way things were in the beginning, and for that reason, I can't cut all ties completely, though my respect level for him is pretty low.
And then there's this other part of me, the part that remembers the trauma of living under their shadow, of not being heard or believed when it mattered, of being replaced in my own home, having my life completely taken over. That part still feels fear at the thought of facing my tormentors.
