It is 2.00 am, and I am awake.
I am occupied with thoughts of Stigma.
It is like a nightmare to open my eyes to such a story.
Few believe me. I believe me and so do my abusers.
But it is as though we are in a secret club.
No-one else knows or cares that this is happening.
We move amongst them, myself and my abusers. I stare, and my bullies smirk, and no-one even turns their head.
I wish I had lived my life without stigma. I wish my illness did not attract such attention.
I wish I could let it all go, close my eyes and go to sleep.