Through Connection, Creativity, and Control  The Silent Observer I remember being curled up in the darkest corner of the dining room. Knees pressed as tightly to my eyes as possible to prevent the tears from spilling out. Fear rising from my belly and flushing my cheeks. I pushed it back down, as far down as ...

Content Warning: contains references to assault, drug use, death of a parent, and child abuse. When we spotted her, she sat in the corner. A tiny child holding a doll, she picked its poofed hair with the ferocity of potential future trichotillomania. Her skin’s patches of white and darker tan contrasted with the doll’s color ...