I don't have memories of being comforted. I can't think of one. My sanity, when I was young, was in my sisters sense of humor. That is how she dealt with the violence. I also found comfort in being alone. I would hide in a cardboard box and stay perfectly still. I could hear everyone but no one knew I was there. I was totally safe. I would breath it all in and get as much feeling of safety as I could before stepping back into the world. I feel safe when I am alone because no one can touch me. But that's the rub. There are times when I would like to be touched in the right way. Still for now we just want the feeling of being safe.