Alright, so I made it through Thanksgiving without my therapist. ( He had surgery a month ago. Thank God he will be back tomorrow for my appointment.) My good holiday was probably due to spending it with my IL's and not my sibs. Both my parents are gone now, so it is just the sibs and me. Of course we all have children of our own, and now they are even having children, but we are all one big disfunctional family.

Anyway, that is not why I am writing. I stock shelves at Wally world, and last night I went up and down ladders all night putting stuff on the risers for storage. Now when it is time to sleep, I can't because when I close my eyes I feel like I am falling off the ladders. so my brain tries to switch to something else. NOT A GOOD THING!!!!!
One of the main things that pushed me into the wonderful world of depression, is the fact that I was sexually molested as a child. The thing is, that I repressed it so much for so long, I didn't even realize what it was until I was 25. Even then I did not do anything about it until after I lost my mother. Then it all came pouring out!!!!!
I still don't remember everything. Every once in a while I have a memory surface, and I don't really know what to do with it.
There has been a big question in therepy about if my parents knew any of this. I can't imagine them not knowing that their 6 daughters were being molested by one of their own sons. With 12 people in one house, it was pretty cowded...how could they miss it. But, then again, they both worked really hard to provide for their huge family. Maybe they counted on the older kids to tell them what was going on. Nobody told our secret though, and now that they are gone, it is eating me alive. It is really funny that my parents were the first to bad mouth known child molestors.

Anyway, my memory nailed me again today. I remember my parents sitting right there when it was happening to me. You see my brother was a sly
a%%-h*$# and never made it obvious. I remember my parents telling him to stop tickling me, but what he was really doing they could not see...guess they couldn't see his other hand. Why didn't they make him stop. I am sorry if this triggers anybody, I really am, but I have to get it off my chest. I think I was the only four year old that knew how to french kiss, and thought that is how you were suppose to kiss everybody.

THIS LIFE REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!! <font color="purple"> </font>