It's Weird Thinking of Myself as A Survivor

I've been coming across that term recently (Survivor), and I guess I never thought of it like that - I'm a survivor of... living? But, I mean... it's true. When you're brought up in a home where your caretakers are essentially trying to destroy you, I mean - what else is it?

I remember when I got my first apartment (loved that place) - I would have these sessions where I would just sit on the floor, leaning against the wall - breathing deeply for 40 mins sometimes. It was as though years of compacted, oh, I dunno - emotions? - just found themselves unfurling. I wasn't weeping or anything, just... decompressing. Sitting in that apartment was the first time I ever felt comfortable - on the floor in that little one bedroom... .

I'll never understand it; the utter selfishness, the deceit, the predatoriness... How can someone bring a child into the world and never allow them to be comfortable? And then - did they know what they were doing the whole time? I know it's a pathology, but still... We're all cognizant of out behaviour, unless... we're REALLY whack - right?

Thnx.