Sorry for the long break; but I've been struggling a lot with depression, anxiety and my PTSD these past few months and simply haven't had much interest in doing anything other than feeding off of my own personal darkness. Not a good thing.
Before I pick back up on where I left off, I want to follow up on my last post titled "Intermission"...
About 1 week after I sent that letter to my mom and my abusers telling all that happened to me and how it has affected me, I received a reply from my mother. In her letter, she stated that she missed me and shared how lonely she is in her old age. She sent me some pictures of her dogs and her camping trailer; but not one single mention of what happened to me. And not one single sentence mentioning my abusers by name. Funny thing is that she mentioned my other brother by name and had a few, choice, negative things to say about him...but nothing about my abusers...not a single word about what happened to me and my co-victim in her house, under her roof, during her and my Dad's watch.
On the other hand, she didn't deny any of what I claimed happened to me either. So at least I have that going for me, right?
I have yet to reply to her letter and don't know if I ever shall; but having spilled my guts to my family, I don't feel I will ever be able to return to my home town...not for a wedding, a baptism, family reunion or even a family funeral. I am currently in exile. By my own actions I have placed myself into exile, never again to return "home".
And this makes me sad in ways I cannot put into words. So I'll just stop here.
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