**This post may be a trigger for those who suffered physical abuse or molestation.
On January 4th I got a text telling me he was dead. My first thought was “good”. Then I got hit with a wave of guilt. How could I feel good that a person died? I felt like a bad person. We aren’t supposed to talk ill of the dead, but when the dead did some horrible things I think it’s time to talk about it.
It’s not like I didn’t tell before now. The first person I told said I was lying and stopped speaking to me. To this day she will barely acknowledge me. We were very close, it still hurts. I told my mother years later, she believed me, but I asked her not to do anything about it because it would have ruined her relationship with her sister. You see, my abuser wasn’t…
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