Oh, is it time to be flooded with memories from old trauma today? How wonderful. And I had almost forgotten that fucking day. Now I'm back to a seething ball of blinding rage with small breaks of lovely catatonic depression, lying on the side, staring into the wall.
January 2019 privileged people I reached out to for help basically stole (persuaded me to give it away when I was in a bipolar mixed episode and thus didn't think clearly) something valuable. I have no way of getting it back. The worst part? It was a pet. A beloved family member. I tried to reach out a year later in the hopes of resolving the issue in a way I can live with, but they behaved in a threatening way. I can't afford buying the animal back, I have never had much, because of a difficult childhood and chronic illness spread on several diagnoses. If I wanted to, I doubt I could ever be able to afford having a child, even though I live in one of the richest countries in the world. Whereas the thieves swim in luxury in comparison. It makes me so furious to think about.
Sorry I had to vent. This has plagued me so long and I have no-one I can talk to about it.
If you have little; never give anything away to people who have more than you. Especially not something like this. It will haunt you. This can never be fixed for me, but maybe those few who reads this can learn something.