So we still have regular contact with our primary abuser, our father. Seems so freakin stupid when I say it. because on one side of this particular equation we would never ever have anything to do with him if it were our choice. Unfortunately we are not the only side that exists.
Our mother was aware of the abuse. She sent us to the bedroom to be abused while she watched TV. Sometimes she cried because it was too loud and she could hear us. We still see her too.
The other day we saw an old counsellor for the first time in over 30 years. We knew we had disclosed some abuse to her, but none of us front people knew about the father abuse back then. Apparently one of us told her about it then though. We didn't know that. One of the reasons for wanting to see this particular woman now was so we could tell her that. And apparently we did 30 years ago. Oh well.
Anyway, she suggested we sit down and have a conversation with the father about the abuse. I just about fell off my danged chair. Are you freakin serious, woman? 0_o Apparently she was. What would you say to him if he were sitting here now, she asked. We'd be feckin terrified and not say and a damn thing, that's what.
She drew this triangle thing. It said victim, rescuer, perpetrator. Who is here, she asked, pointing to the rescuer position. Father is, he rescues me. Father is all three. We are all three. We are all stuck in the same old roles. We are all the victims, all the rescuers, all the perpetrators.
She asked If we broke this cycle what would you lose?
The only answer is everything. They are family. They are all we have. Without them we are nothing at all.

Edited to add:
We had dinner with them tonight. We sat next to our rapist and his co-offender, and traded small talk and pleasantries over lasagna and apple crumble.
How's that for effed up?