if there was a god he would want us to burn bibles for warmth when we were cold

if there was a god he would want us to eat his church when we were hungry

i abide by no rules that determine me to be less deserving, less capable, less worthy, less possible, than some words from a 2000 year old telephone

if there was a god he would have his finger on the scale at least for the children, at least for babies to not die, not be kidnapped, not get raped

if there was a god he would show up in Food Not Bombs soups, he would show up in street outreach workers, maybe he does today but hiding behind the shoulders of those doing the work. if there was a god he would be witnessable

if there was a god i would invite him to my house to see what small damages, what small traumas exist in a single life, if there was a god i would try to fight him

if there was a god i would chain him up in my basement and abuse him as i was abused because i never give anyone more than they can handle and i would make him retch up blessing after blessing for people i have never met 

which would make me god 

always these two things:

the memory of walking around the property on the day ray walked to the first district police precinct, knowing he was gone, but hoping, walking around calling his name out, sobbing and hoping

recognizing that i forgot that memory for several months, that this memory had to be called forward again from wherever my brain had stored it, months later

it is good that i took a run at dorene, the eldest sister, dorene the peacemaker, dorene the teacher, dorene the gentle soul everyone is supposed to feel safe with. it is good for me to realize that the same response sets underly all of her choices as are clear on the surface of my mother's. 

no safe harbor in this family for anti-narcissism.

i said what i meant and i meant what i said: i choose myself above anyone else's comfort, always. and will, always, going forward. i am committed to that for myself. i am capable of nothing else. 

a whole essay reply about how i wasn't noticed, and the beginnings of her own defensive posture. not a single piece of recognition of myself in anything she wrote. 

each generation does better than the one before it, they say. i am happy to end the family tree with my own body. 

 I really don't understand you, and I don't understand this family. 

Why bother leaving guilt trippy voicemails at the end of last year if that's all you intended to do? Why bother reaching out at all? 

Why did you never do or say anything during my entire shit childhood as you watched my mother berate and belittle me? 

The first person who ever told me that she was an abuser was my high school best friend's mother. If it was visible to a stranger, it must have been visible. 

If it was not visible to you, then you should answer for yourself why that was the case. I am not interested in your answer to this. 

Debra is a narcissist. She was raised to be one by Margaret, who was such an incredible narcissist that some of my earliest memories are of the way she spoke to me. My actual earliest memory is of my mom hitting Claire in the kitchen of the house where we lived when I was a toddler. 

Being raised by a narcissist is incredibly damaging, and I see in some of your choices and traits your own push against embodying narcissism. I cut you no slack for the burden this has represented to you, because I grew up in the same family a generation later, experiencing from Debra word-for-word the same abuse as Dana did from Margaret, and I made different choices. 

From my point of view, every adult in this family is either an abuser or an enabler. How many of you just watched as she lashed out at her kids? 

I imagine you all over the holidays just gently wringing your hands about my absence, if it was mentioned at all. 

I imagine you all thinking that your paltry gestures have been enough, even though those gestures are your stand-in for truth, honesty, principle, morality, and actually contending with your cultural and genetic heritage. 

I imagine how easily and instinctually my voice is brushed away from how any of you think about yourselves, even though I am the only one who consistently speaks truth in our entire family tree. 

Do not call me. Do not leave any other voicemails. None of you will ever be unblocked from my phone book. I am unable to leave quietly, from my family and from any other space that has ever deeply harmed me. I have contended with Christian Science, I have contended with the boundaries that I require in my adult life to be safe, I have contended with every single individual who has ever put their hands on me, and I cannot understand how my entire family failed so completely to keep me safe. 

i remember when ray was between hospitals toward the end, he noticed that i always had my back to the wall

and his comment about it was "i have noticed that you are doing this and it makes me mad and sad"

because the fault was mine, this was a comment about how my behavior made him feel

and not anything else

i am not happy and i am most angry because it is other people that have created my unhappiness

and there will never be an adjudication of my anger

there will never be a mea culpa, there will never be understanding

there will only ever be me, alone, attempting to address symptoms and outcomes, without a family, without a partner, without anyone who knows me from childhood, without any firm friendships, without any social structure that accepts me

and i AM NOT CRAZY

i am struggling to maintain right relationship to MYSELF

and that is my priority. my priority is myself. myself, and my safety. me. i matter most to me. 

when i am reactive, i am reacting to lessons learned in blood and time and trauma.

when i am angry, i am angry about real events that took place with people who should have made better choices, events where i held all the receipts, alone. 

i am still alone. 

other people are a fucking curse i cannot get away from, but my dedication to the struggle is in my own name. my dedication to the improvement of my community stems from my desire to better my own circumstances. this is not selfish. this is mammalian. i will not apologize. 

and i will protect myself from love, because the evidence is too wide and clear: love is weakness, love is danger. connection to me is opportunity for others. i will not apologize.

i would rather die alone, and truncate my legacy and ensure my name stops at my own feet, than risk anything for anyone else ever again. 

i am not happy

no one else knows what it's like to be me

this is universal

some of the things that make my experience very different are the ways i grew up, my affinity toward narcissism in my closest relationships, and the detritus of having chosen narcissists over and over and over

i feel touch starved very often

i feel lonely very often

i also do not seek any new friendships or partners or connections right now

i do not think that most people know how to see me, speak to me, or approach me

i have been very reactive to the idea of jared leaving me and i see now that i am more reactive to the idea of my freedom or agency being curtailed in any way

which makes sense for where i am in my healing

i would rather be alone than abused

i would rather be utterly, entirely, continually alone in a world full of people than offer anyone the opportunity to abuse me ever again

i am very mad at my family

i don't understand why claire isn't a sibling to me

i don't understand why my parents are so fucking blind and dumb

i don't want to be around anyone who  cannot see me or speak to me

my entire family falls into that category