4 years
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When I was young, I was s** trafficked. My PTSD was so severe I had a service dog. I couldn’t leave my room for years and still struggle to. My family decided someone else in the family needed my service dog more. And took her and gave her to someone else. This was ten years ago and I’m still hurt. To this day they still make fun of me for what happened to me when I was young, and tell me it was my own fault. There’s a lot of days I don’t even want to live anymore.

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