I don't mind about the pictures, Copa. I didn't like my sister's piggishness about it, but then, I never do. When I see my brother when he was little, I remember the traumatic things: Meeting the eyes of the little boy with excrement on his face. Hearing that tone I hope no one else have ever had to hear, when the one being abused understands no help is coming, and you are not big enough to help yourself to stop it. So, you get up and stand there, and it is night. And your father is not there.
And that keys in all kinds of other wake up in the middle of the night things.
He was such a sweet thing, my brother.
My mother was so big.
We are working with the sisters, now. I am happy about that. I have suffered too, over my sister's betrayals. It is good to see them for what they are.
Your sister was gaslighting you, Copa. The best thing for all of us is to find the role enslavement. Those feelings surrounding the emails are prime examples of what that was for you, Copa.
And for me.
Tomorrow, I will post something I found about sorrow and how to address it.
Because no matter how much I pretend it doesn't bother me, it does. I just don't know whether I am angry or disgusted or what.
Cedar
But I do know I am determined to come through this as myself.
That much, I do know.