How can I be angry, If I do not Remember???

I carried anger with me for so long, I keep looking for it, like I misplaced it or something…

I couldn’t talk about the rape of my child, without my blood pressure going off the chart…. I couldn’t talk about my military board, without remembering the ones that lied… I couldn’t talk about my sister, without wanting to kick her ass for lying to me!!!

Like the depression, the anger is part of what molded me as a person… It help me learn how to protect myself and mine for as long as it was possible, till they left home… It helped me break off marriages that were going no place…. It helped me end friendships that never were friendships… or she would have come seen me, when we lived in Arkansas… instead she went to see her walrus… (inside story) the one who wanted my private info after an ex died recently….her hubby didn’t want me to tattle tell on him….

How can I be angry about things I do not know about??? That is what baffles me… My mother and sister and brother, could have come forward and said these simple words….

“Something happened when you were young and it shouldn’t have… but, you might want to know this information for your own health….”

But no… the cowards kept their secrets of abuse and neglect and now all of a sudden they want to be a part of my world and use my brain or what ever else they think they can steal… just like my life they stole….

Most people who get a TBI are informed of their injuries and are reminded by their parents so that they can seek the appropriate health care and thrive as a human being and grow up as a productive adult… my family decided… I needed none of that information and sent me off into the world to be devoured….

Only one little problem…. ME!!! My brains desire to never quit learning and to NEVER take anything the family said as truth… thus my journey of finding Margie started long before Maggi became aware…. and we are where we are today… without the family help….

All anyone in the family ever had to do… own what they did and give me my life back by telling me of my injuries… but no… it was more important for a spoiled brat, a half-brother who was labeled predator and a mother whose only desire… to have her world her way and damn the torpedoes and the damage it did along the way and is still damaging to this day… to those around her….

No one owned their behavior… Don (dad) went to his grave a coward and that is how I will remember my mother and siblings…. cowards, who hide behind an invisible god… sounds a lot like that fairy tale and the kings invisible clothes… I expect nothing less from cowards…. and last night, I remembered…. Alabama,  and now mother should be real worried… because this is when she played her games and is still playing them… you can pass on to her… I remember the bay of pigs and I remember…. HER!!! I kept telling my younger siblings… The woman you know is not the woman I know… And, I know the real woman I once called mother…. Now I call her things, I will not put in print… That anger will go to the grave with me…. Just like mothers not so secret, secrets…..that I intend to expose….

TimesUp #MeToo WhyIDidntTell

I Remember… Margie….