Jen, I do appreciate your sharing your experience
about hating the men who r*ped you, and wishing
them all kinds of damage.

You said you'd felt that way for many years, then
screamed at them one night, with tears in your
eyes, and said their evil wouldn't affect you any
more.

How Jen, how did you manage that moment of epiphany?
Honestly, was it luck, was it your faith, did some
therapist suggested it to you? Because I thought I
was thru with my screaming, I know I'm over the pain
of their 'death', and I thought I wasn't angry at
Mom.

I guess it's just one more new realization that has
hit me in the past few days, probably been coming on
since my birthday on Nov 19, and all the maudlin
memories that were triggered that day. I realize
that I'm still excusing Mom, or that I WAS still
excusing her.

For ten months I've been saying that she wasn't
responsible for their estrangement from me, that
she was always fragile, that she'd had that terrible
brain injury two years earlier, and that she couldn't
help herself.

Which is b*llsh*t. Yes she was sick, and because of
that, she WAS more vulnerable to my sister's lies.
But she COULD have helped herself get well 50, 60, 70
years ago, and she chose not to, because it was easier
to play the helpless damsel in distress.

Mainly I'm disappointed that I'm still remembering
all these tiny little things that helped create the
sad stunted person that I am today.

**TRIGGERS**

And I resent having to work so hard at recovery today.
If I'd known the truth when I was 12 and tried to over-
dose, it would have been so much easier to cope with
back then.

Anyway, again, Jen, I sure appreciate your writing back
and sharing your thoughts. I envy you the stength and
the faith that you must possess. Later.