'Husband don't know what he's done

Kids don't know what's wrong with Mum

They can't say and she can't say

Putting it down to another bad day.'

Inspiral Carpets.

I knew it was too good to be true. Efexor – the magic drug, the miracle drug, the drug that enabled me to live on an existential island. (Sorry, Donne, a (wo)man can be an island and I was one until my miracle drug started losing its potency.)

I found a support group on the net for 'abuse victims' or 'survivors', as they prefer to call themselves. Fake it till you make it, as they say. Unfortunately, I encountered a certain person I'd known from another support group. Apparently, he was the epitome of evil although, frankly, I have seen and read and heard worse. So, no refuge there then.

Or maybe I should avoid making premature judgements.