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Colorful and hopefully optimistic but maybe hateful occasionally

well -- I like ya no matter which parts you have. We both know I'll forget which words go with what, but ... I still like ya :hug:

A bit more serious note --- someday our world will stop judging people by the type of their genitals and start judging them by the type of their heart. Maybe you and yours will be the start of that awakening.......
 
Thank y’all :) ?

It’s been a rough day.

Did everything I needed to, minimally. Gave all my critters what they needed. Rested all day. Went over a day with no food and started again today with oatmeal.
 
I have found that hard month for me are January, March, April, May, June, July (much better now), September, December. More than half the year is covered with some kind of trauma anniversary. And I’m probably missing days in my head because I often forget until I get close.

Would help if my mom weren’t trying to have me do emotional labor for her. That’s how my friend put her behavior the other day.

But I’m going to try to ignore it. I’m going to watch cartoons and write and relax.
 
Thanks :)

I can’t say what it is, but I got bad news today that’s also kind of good news, but I’m very bummed.

I didn’t really have a lot of strength today. Gallbladder is also acting up. I really want to be alone. Yet also lonely at the same time.

Going to just ignore that too.

Next week is Father’s Day. My dad has started commenting obsessively on my Facebook statuses. Once again, will be awkward and stressful to try to ignore him all day.
 
Thank you. I'm having some trouble with anxiety today. It's getting so high that I keep getting confused. "Overwhelmed" is a good way to put it.

I have an appointment with my therapist this Friday.

I had gotten really good at expressing myself around the forums, and now I'm back to struggling. I'm not sure what's causing it. I think all those fun facts I kept telling was helping me feel more comfortable than I thought.

I haven't had much strength lately. I had some yesterday, but that didn't work out. I was assertive with my mother and she showed me she feels that's not okay. But still will warn me if she likes a show I shouldn't watch. I guess.

A friend pointed out that I seem to avoid confrontation and that he doesn't see it as a positive trait. He said that helpfully because I said I was happy that I was a peace keeper. Hurt a bit, but he's right. I'm just sensitive to such a comment -- I view myself as weak if I don't stand up to someone.

But I do stand up to people. I chose to, but it ended violently plenty of times. It got harder and harder. I would yell back at my dad.

I don't like that father's day is coming up. It's got me f*cked up.
 
I was reading a book about children kept in cages, who were rescued by an adoptive father who gained their trust, and the novel is about how he continues gaining their trust while juggling the fact that the perp escaped and is at large looking for them.

Stirred up a lot of feelings.

My mom was utterly convinced that if we ended up in foster care, it would be worse than living with my dad. My dad's brother's kids -- most of them got adopted. Two boys were readopted by the mom (very unfortunately -- I should have spoken up). My cousin Jessica has adopted five children.

I don't like admitting it, but I'm jealous. Nothing would have made me happier than to be a part of a family that would have given me room to heal.

I was at my aunt's house recently and I changed into a swimsuit in my cousins' bedroom. It hit me hard. They have a bedroom. A nice one. With room to walk and be comfortable in. No anxiety trying to move things around so I could change clothes.

I wish I could go back in time and fix it. I thought I'd be losing if I got put in foster care. But I think my mom was wrong and I could have had a childhood, maybe a parent who stopped me from being Brandi's friend once it started to get scary.
 
I ignored my dad all week, but now that I don’t look like I’m pitying him on father’s day. I think I’m going to tell him maybe. Maybe I’ll come visit.

But he’s going to have to accept that I’m angry at him. And it would have to be somewhere more public.

He’s terrified of public places. Of people. You’d think someone who cowers at the sight of a “crowd” (four people in a restaurant) would be more capable of empathy.

Like I am. I feel terrible for him. He literally doesn’t understand consequences, either. Why am I always the one left who MIGHT be willing to show ADULTS that their behavior is dumb?

I tried not enabling my mom. I did great. But now her hearts suffering again, so I scolded her the way you do a friend you’re mad at and she scraped her potato salad back into the container (she’s had a popsicle, blood sugar was 270, she’s been having heart failure symptoms again).

My grandmother — the one my grandfather married. Technically my step grandma. She tells me my dad’s biological mother treated him worse than I was treated.

I wrote that in this diary. Several times. But now I’m wondering. It’s true my dad has stayed socially... inept. It makes it easily to get victims when you are one, I’m guessing. To be enabled.

But. Hear me out. I think my grandma ... was not being truthful.

Don’t worry, I’m aware it should’ve been obvious the whole time.

I think my grandma thinks my dad is better than he is. It’s not often someone says it’s shameful to the family to “lie” and say their son sexually abused his own son. And fails to understand that maybe, maybe, the part that’s shameful is that they’re protecting a child rapist who locks kids in cages (or in the wall! I’ve never mentioned that here — unless I did, and forgot?) and feeds them cat food, and “trafficks” them to one house. I don’t feel that’s the right term.

Why does that matter anymore? Because there’s meaning in wanting to help this dude. My dad. Feelings I have every year that wear me down. Worse this year because he asked me directly to hang out. Come see his animals that he’s undoubtedly not housing properly.

He wants me to come over, meet his new girlfriend. Possibly a child? A young one? A dog. A cat who’s about to have kittens. His new pet mice. The fish in his aquarium. He wants to talk about cars. He wants to cook dinner for me again, because it’s the one thing he feels confident doing.

These things he wants brings back confusingly good memories. The kind id have more of if his parents had taken him for therapy, maybe. If he wanted to get better. He’s supposedly in therapy now. But no apology yet. And despite me saying repeatedly all over this website that I won’t listen to him until he apologizes, well. No. That’s not good enough anymore for me.

I don’t have to accept any apologies. Yet I don’t feel like I need them. I hate him for hurting my brothers. My sister. Me, maybe, definitely.

I don’t want to say I love him. But it’s complicated. I wish he’d died. But I also wish he was normal so I could just go hang out with him and enjoy being his friend again.

And that’s the problem, and the reason for this post. The people who keep enabling him, who keep hanging out with him and being nice to him. I’m angry at them. I love my grandparents, but it’s shameful, beyond shameful, that they welcome a child rapist into their lives like that. Even if he isn’t their favorite.

So what am I, then? My family keeps telling ME they won’t judge me, if I decide to talk to him again. My mom made that very clear since I was a teen. But he’s dangerous. He hurt my little brother and disowned him for existing, basically. And I love my little brother. A lot. He and I have much more in common than my dad and I.

I can tell it’s my empathy. My dad loves being pitied. If he’s being talked about, even negatively, he loves it. He’d love this post. He’d love your replies. It makes me physically sick.

My friends and therapist are proud I’m staying away from him. But I think they would reserve judgement if I didn’t. My grandparents want me to love him and take care of him.

I’m worried about that. I don’t want to disappoint them.

I’m still coming out of brainwashing and being conditioned, so I don’t know what I want. But the emotions say to keep giving him chance after chance, just like my grandparents are doing. The exact reason I am angry at my grandparents. It’s clearly not the “right” option. But shame over it. That shame makes me wonder about it even more. Like maybe when I get over that, I’ll realize somehow my grandparents are wise and I missed something.

I am... tired of this. Tired of my brain taking me in circles.
 
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