I've suddenly realized that being famililess and with scant close friends, that I am completely free to Say Anything, to stand on a soapbox and Finally release all the secrets that I've been forced into silencing.
It's like killing your own soul when you have to suffocate and stymie your own personal history because it might upset, gross out or ruin a friend/ family relationship.
I can't help but wonder how many "loving" families are smiling around the family table knowing they are sitting next to or across from a child molester. Yeah, keep smiling in denial while the shame of secrets eats you away.
Let the stories begin!
I'm not writing this for validation. I am well aware of what happened.
I have no reason to lie. I don't need any attention. If you don't like what I write, don't read it.
It boggles me how anyone can judge or be a vested, anonymous stranger with strong opinions, when they weren't living in my family's home.
Trust me, I would doubt the validity of my own positively bizarre truths unless I was actually there experiencing them. This stuff is hideous, horrendous and the kind of stuff that can put a most cruel slant on the wonderful, rose-colored world we wish to be true.
Yeah, I'll try to maintain some degree of anonymity for the others involved.
It's weird how some get all concerned that my dead father isn't here to defend himself. WTF? Who defended me when I was 3 or 4 or 8 or 12? Seriously? Think about it.
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