I’m healing.

I’m not healed.

I may never be healed.

But the process of healing is improving me.

Alternately, Stuart has to continue to block communication from the entire extended family to keep Donna’s imaginary picture of me from fading.

Just two days after posting the link to the blog on my other Page, this came to the Borderline Butterfly inbox from “Facebook User”

Interesting. Is this book going to mention the fact that you were diagnosed years before, and that you ignored it? Will it mention that when you were diagnosed once again, you used that as an excuse for your sociopathic behavior? Will it mention that you have a long history of hurting people as a coping mechanism for any time you have a bad day?

Will it mention that you harassed an innocent man to suicide? Will there be any reference at all that you then used coercion to attend his funeral by threatening to prevent his own grieving children from being present? I’m sure you won’t forget to include the fact that in the months and years after his death, you continued to harass his family.

Given you could fill an entire book with the numerous ways you made your biological son’s life a living hell, I assume there must be at least a few chapters devoted to that. How you told him nearly every day that he was worthless and that no one loved him until he believed it himself. How you used him as an emotional punching bag whenever you had a bad day after you had caused the death of his father by doing the same thing. How you blackmailed him into silence for his abuse by threatening to make sure he would never see his family again.

And that’s just the things from 2007-2012, believe me, I’m only getting started. If you want to go earlier, will there be any recounting of the times you beat your elementary school son, filmed him crying in pain, and then passed those videos around to your friends, hoping to gain sympathy for “dealing with a problem child”? Will the book have the slightest footnote about the time you paid a dirty therapist to tell your son that seeing his father was a privilege and not a right, or that you paid him to break patient confidentiality and tell you what was said during the sessions?For a little snippet of post-2012, how about after your son finally mustered up the courage to leave, you stalked him at the house of the relatives he was staying with, stalked him outside of school, and then continued to collect social security checks from the government for the death of his father, despite him no longer living with you. Not that you weren’t committing fraud with those checks from 2007-2012, but I’m sure the government would be pleased to hear you were collecting checks for a child months after he had ceased living with you.

And yes, we knew it was you every single time you drove by to stalk the house. You’ve never been that bright so let me break it down to you. The house is on a dead end road, there is nearly no traffic. A vehicle coming down the road all the way to where the house is located is immediately noticeable, especially if they’re on the road and don’t go into any driveway. Yes, we still knew it was you, even when you got a new car. Your windows aren’t tinted, and even my grandfather, who was starting to have issues with sight at the time, could recognize you through a car window just a few feet away.

Make sure to tell all 32 of your adoring fans about the time you shoved your son into a wall during one of your violent outbursts so hard that it left a hole. Maybe they’d like to know about the time you attempted to murder someone deathly allergic to bees by tricking them into going into a barn overrun with a massive nest. I’m sure they’d appreciate you telling them about illegally recording phone calls during your divorce and trying to provoke them into having an emotional response, though that failed miserably on your part.

You probably think I’m too young to remember, but I know you had a tough childhood. I remember hearing the conversations you would have about your mother. Of course, you would later go on to abuse the people you were having them with who tried to help you, but that’s beside the point. Eventually she got help, and tried to make amends, trust me, I know it’s difficult to forgive someone who has caused you that much pain. But you never did any of that. All you are, and all you will ever be is another link in that chain. You are an abusive sociopath with no desire for repentence. This is your legacy. A weak, cowardly, bully. An unhinged and damaged person, playing at being a tyrant and hurting anyone you can, because it’s the only way you ever felt power in your life.

Unlike you, I have the strength to break this chain. I forgive you. I want you to know immediately, I almost certainly do not mean whatever springs into your twisted mind when you hear “forgiveness”. I do not want you in my life, I do not consider you family. If I never see you again my entire life, it will be too soon. I don’t want to hear another fake apology where you never actually mention guilt for anything you’ve done and make the entire thing about you, yet again. I mean it in the biblical sense. When I say I forgive you, I mean I relinquish any claim I may have or be entitled to for retribution for the things you have done to me.

[ Page is blocked from responding to this user. ]

This message was intended to devastate me.

If I were not actively pursuing healing, it would have.

But I am healing.

I see all of the lies.

I see exaggeration, too.

There is truth among the paragraphs like thorns among roses.

When I see a truth, it hurts. It fucking hurts.

But the roses have been painted red. They’re not real.

Only the thorns are real.

I no longer need to strip the paint from the roses to show everyone how they are not as they seem.

But the thorns.

Those rip new wounds that will take more time to heal.

Another time, I’ll add explanations, context, admissions and denials. But not today. On this day, just feel what Stuart is feeling. Imagine it is all true.

Everyone else knows the reality.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s