This is an old wives tale, I can assure you. Only those who have suffered immense levels of unforgiving pain can tell you this. Through the maze of memories, nightmares and unknowns some are lucky, but time is more of a curse than a healer.
As you live year after year, time only compounds the wounds and their deep infectious sting. The slow death it brings causes a desire for it to be over, any way possible. This is what begins the exploration of suicide.
It becomes more valid with each passing day. One after another meaningless week causes a dive into depths unknown and a crumbling will that listens to any voice which promises relief.
I can tell you that a stage on the way to this finality is when medications become an afterthought, they are within reach but they are not a viable recourse. I am experiencing this now.
Time is not a friend of some of those who are victims of abuse. It is a sworn enemy, an enemy who will many times win the day. Statistics prove this out year after year.
If you care…do something meaningful, don’t leave it to someone else. Help the abused find a place of safety and hope.
The Place to be Real 