Sometimes the only way to survive is to detach — detach your brain from the whining and complaining and criticizing, from demands and expectations and disputes.
The danger is, once you start detaching, momentum takes over.
I retreat into my own body, the senses that satisfy. I eat a whole package of Pims cookies, the kind with orange jam inside. I spray the scent of grapefruit around my room. I sit in silence, sweet silence.
I imagine great gaps of space between me and them. Distance.

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