Sorry for being inactive a lot of memories have been resurfacing. The more I remember the more it feels like it was "too traumatic to possibly be real". It feels too messed up to of actually happened when we have confirmed pretty much everything with another survivor from our cult.
I want it to be not real. I want it to I want it to I want it to. The facts are there. How could someone even do that to a kid? We were rented out like a fucking hotel room. And was forced to worship a man who thought he could play god. How could our parents let this happen? Why did they let this happen? We were supposed to be protected. I hate these memories I hate these memories but I think I hate myself even more for remembering what I wasn't supposed to remember. Why did this happen? We were 4. 4 when it started.