On October 18th, 2014, I told my mother all about how a cousin had sexually abused me for years over 30 years ago. I felt much better after getting that decades old secret out of me, it was a cancer eating at my sanity. On October 25th, 2014, I got her opinion, and I quote "Well, you were both kids, and she's only a year older than you."

Thanks for that, Mom. I'll just put that load back onto my shoulders, along with my Asperger's and Schizotypal Personality Disorder and General Mood Disorder NOS and Diabetes 2.

I'm right back to where I was on 10/17/14, carrying 30 plus years of secret abuse memories and secret memories of perverted sex dreams with my mother, sister and both grandmothers because some animal abused my cousin, then she abused me. Mom would rather I not mention what happened to me or my cousin to her again or to anyone else? NO! I WILL NOT BE SILENT!

Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas, 1914-1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.