Today I write about a topic that I have tended to avoid – my family of origin. I have been unable to clear one particular relatively recent event, from my mind. I believe it was a deliberate act of cruelty by my brother, aided and abetted by my parent.
I had to manoeuvre my way past his huge dog to find a seat in the lounge of the family home. Nobody had attempted to shift the dog. I delicately picked my way past it, when I had needed to go to the bathroom. I had almost successfully negotiated the obstacle course which had been made for me, when my ex thought he would join in on the fun and yell out my name, finally causing me to stumble, much I am sure, to their delight.
I do not understand quite why I have suddenly become so furious about this. God stepped in, as he has done my entire life. I realise there is absolutely no point in tackling anybody about their treatment of me. I am quite sure they would be able to squeeze out tears and successfully recast themselves and the dog as victims. I am a dog lover myself but I do not believe my needs should have ranked below those of the aforementioned pet.
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