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When I was in kindergarten, 4 or 5, I had a best friend at school. Wendy was so much fun to color with. I was happy sitting with her.

She had a developmental disability, or intellectual disability. I don’t know. We were toddlers and I didn’t notice anything. She was my coloring friend and I loved her – that’s what I knew.

One day I went to the playground and saw her crying so I hugged her.

Next thing I knew my brother, Brian, was pulling me aside. Then I saw the kids circled around her teasing her.

Brian said I had to leave and not help her if the kids would make fun of him. He is five years older and I was afraid of him.

I’ll never forgive myself for not thinking of going back to her. My brother told me to do something and I was so manipulated and emotionally abused by him and my parents that I walked away from someone I wanted to help.

I wanted to hug her more and be there for her.

I’m so sorry. I think about it often. I hope she has always had a loving family and so much support. I hope she never looked back and forgot all about me and those children.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be a stronger child. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for her.

The next day at school she yelled at me. The teacher took her out of the classroom. My heart was breaking with the guilt. I know she felt worse.

Brian is not a better person.

Every once in a while I would get to visit my Grandma Hepner by myself.

I don’t know all of my mother’s family history. She gave me bits and pieces hare and there. It seems clear that her father was very strict about how he thought women and girls should live. I think she was very restricted as far as activities and educational opportunities. I’m sure it was fairly common then and my grandmother probably was okay with to a point.

But she was so good to me. She is the only person that made me feel loved, safe, protected, and understood.

I was a quiet child and I liked doing quiet things. She was part of a group of old women who got together for food and crafts.

It was glorious! They all had kilns. They made doll, tea sets, crazy ornate porcelain projects everywhere. They would paint such colorful, intricate designs. Sewing projects. The dresses for the dolls is what I mostly remember from their sewing times. And loads of delicious sandwiches, snacks, and treats.

I would spend days engrossed in crafting, painting, and sewing.

My grandmother and all of her friends would constantly help me and check on how I was doing. They wanted to know if I was having fun. So much loving attention. The absolute best times of my life!

I watched my mother’s interactions with her over the years. I don’t know what they discussed or how they grew together. There was strain sometimes.

I saw a change with them in my mother’s last years. Along with everything else. before my grandmother died she was visiting for a couple weeks.

It was so nice. I wish they both could have stayed with me longer💔💔

We had an afternoon together. Lunch outside in Little Italy. My youngest daughter was there too. I don’t remember where my oldest daughter was. It would have been nice for her to be there. It wouldn’t have been as profound to them as it was to me. But still.

Such a beautiful day. My mother and grandmother were so happy being together that day. Grandma went in for surgery soon after that and died from an aneurism afterwards. Then my mother a while later.

I miss them both.

I’ve never felt safe and protected like I did with Grandma Hepner. Every other person who has ever supposed to care about my well being has only betrayed and harmed me.

I’ve always wanted that feeling again. That love. That comfort.

I’ve asked, begged, tried to remind other ‘family’ members that I am a real human that feels pain.

I’m thinking it’s just not there for me. It was only Grandma Hepner.

It makes what I am suffering through that much harder. I will always have to keep watch on the living beings around my home. They are always in danger. I am always in danger. People who are comfortable and happy to kill animals are a danger to everyone. I’m still going to hope, and keep working towards, getting justice and vindication.

I know it’s always going to be in isolation. I’ll never forgive those who have turned their back on my suffering. The same as those who harm me and animals here. I’ll keep fighting for us anyway

He wasn’t a huge part of most of my life. That’s just a fact. Nit a sentiment.

When I was a toddler though I couldn’t escape. We lived in a small house in Lyndhurst. The second floor was a shared bedroom. No bathroom. An attic type room split in two. I don’t think there was a door. There was a long connected closet. Brian and his friends had free rein to terrify and terrorize me. He is five years older than me. So when I was a toddler he would have been old enough to recognize my fear. It was always on purpose with no remorse. He’s never had remorse. I used to have night terrors when we lived there. Screaming in the night so my parents would end up running upstairs. That was Brian and his friends.

I don’t have clear memories of many of the scenarios of fear. Just the shift from normal to terror. I remember staged deaths and injuries, and him and his friends exposing themselves.

3, 4, 5 year old me was just scared. I doubt Brian was ever in trouble. I’m sure my parents blamed me. I don’t have to hear why they found me defective and why they did not separate me from him.

They never stopped scapegoating me, so I he terrorized me the entire time we lived there, I had nightmares for decades. But Brian has no remorse for causing so much harm.

Eventually we moved to Hudson and I got my own room. For years after that I barely remember him around. Thankfully, he had no interest in being a brother. There was a short time he got religious. lol.

He got preachy occasionally during that time because I listen to metal. I had a friend who liked to pull some stupid pranks on him. I wasn’t going to object. I never talked to her or anyone about the nightmares and my fear of him. It still felt like someone backing me up. It was completely harmless stuff, not like his brutal terrorizing a toddler. But it was nice to at least see him affected.

He went to college. I was alone for a bit. It was weird. My parents would hang out in the family room and be a little present when Brian lived at home. Not after.

It’s definitely a truth that predators see neglect kids from miles away. Instead of being isolated at home. I crashed at a friends house. For about a year, maybe more. Every once in a while I would see one of my parents sitting at her house talking to her mother. I don’t think they even gave her money for anything.

Then I had to move in with my dad and creepy Karen.

I actually reached out to my brother a couple of times after that. I wrote him a couple of letters at college. Talking about the stepmother. No, it didn’t do anything.

But I can’t help that part of me that thinks if connecting. My dad mocks my empathy. But it’s part of me. Even the worst people have gotten chances to fix things with me.

No one in my ‘family’ has ever had remorse or concern for me. But I still can’t help doing that!

Brian invited me to a sibling weekend at Kent state. I was excited. I’m thinking I’m actually going to have a good thing with him.

Drinking, vandalism, stealing a poor janitors cleaning stuff. And the night ended with Brian going off to fuck some other guys girlfriend.

So gross. I cried for months every time I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about it. Can’t explain my feelings about it. But he sucks.

Years later Brian and Shannon invited us to their place. They had a table set outside. Covered in yellow jackets.

Now I was stung by yellow jackets until I passed out at camp one year. I have limited memory of the pain of the stings. However, my memory of running in fear through the woods is VIVID! Then black. I had a couple moments of wavy kind of consciousness. My mother was fuzzy and looking at me really strangely and we were walking to the car. At camp, a doctors, hospital??

Anyway, even if I hadn’t been stung until I blacked out earlier in my life a fear of a table full of wasps is valid. Personally I would never force someone to join the waspy feast or sit by yourself. That’s what they chose though. They had other people there. (I’d like to tell them what scum I think they are)

All of these grown people made individual points to say loudly. It’s not that bad. Or walk by me and say, it’s amazing how they don’t really bother you even though they are all over…

Me, I would not exclude someone like that. As I got older I realized the majority of people would not do that to someone. But Brian found yet another way to cause me harm, embarrassment, unwarranted shame, and fear. Shannon and their friends were comfortable going along with it!

Not good people

Then my mom died.

He kept saying he wanted nothing to do with it. And wouldn’t let the estate end for years and years. I can’t try to write about that again right now. I don’t know what anyone was doing, how it wouldn’t end. I had no say, information, no involvement. Just yelling things at me I don’t know what about still. It started to seem like it was never going to stop. Years and years. I never mourned. She died and so quickly the gaslighting, yelling, confusion overwhelmed everything.

I don’t know what is wrong with those people that they can live with themselves. I’ll never understand wanted to hear someone cry, eating to destroy the life of someone you’re supposed to protect and love.

They consistently used my vulnerability to isolate, gaslight, bully. The joy they feel when they see or hear my pain has always been obvious in their eyes and posture. They smirk and straighten happily when I am falling apart in front of them.

It’s always been that way.

None of these people have ever had kindness for me. It’s only judgement and harshness.

They have always had power over my life. As a child and younger sister my life’s direction in the beginning was in their hands. so many times I would start to find my way out of the trauma they cause. I could be putting together a life, start to look for reasons they are wrong about me. If they have an in, or notice my having some confidence. They’ve stopped it.

Over and over I’ve had to pull myself out of the pain of the destruction.

My dad empowered the violent man. I know it. He minimizes my worth and slanders me. I told Ken I need him to stand by my boundaries because I saw what this violent man is right away.

I was right, of course. Some of us can see people like that.

Now it’s been years of violence.

I’ve even tried to get ‘family’ to stop the scapegoating me and try to see me as a person because I need help .

Eventually all of these people will pay for the abuse. Those who have looked away or joined in the abuse to be ‘cool’ or accepted by the bullies. They will pay their price too.

Brian and Shannon go around part of Cleveland clubs and minor society whatever. I hope there are perceptive people around who see past their fraud and their slander. Brian has been an abuser and a monster his entire life.

Hopefully I don’t feel like writing about him again. There are a lot of memories that are missing the main fright though. If they start coming through after I get some of the other stuff out I guess I’ll write them down too.

I want to spend some time writing about my grandmother. Something good to put into words. Tomorrow or soon.

There’s a six month old puppy cuddled up here tonight. I’m going to have to drag us and her fluffy brother outside before I fall asleep.

Chagrin Falls high school had smoking rooms in the 80s. I don’t know when they were first created.

There was a girls smoking room and a boys smoking room. Two gutted out bathrooms with benches lining the walls. No windows just some vents that occasionally went on.

Shockingly, these were directly across the hall from the cafeteria entrance!

That must have been awful for everyone going into the cafeteria 🤮

I rarely went into the cafeteria. Issues with food, body image, worst parents.…

Anyway, I think it was the last few months I was in high school that they moved it to a smoking area in the boiler room. With windows, and a door to outside, I think. much safer for the kids smoking. And geez! Much better for everyone else.

I’m assume there is no area for kids to smoke now😂

I should not have. I only started because the smokers were in quiet places away from the crowds. It always hurt me to smoke. I grew up with chronic bronchitis. All of them were criminally neglectful. Ken, Karen, Carol. They were well aware. I had to get a parent’s signature to use the smoking room. And I would sit in the downstairs bathroom to smoke. It was not airtight.

Not even a question, not a discussion, not even a moment of pretending concern. just ignoring a sad teenage girl every day. I really hate them

Disney level evil stepmother. There’s no better description.

There’s no nice way to describe Karen.

What kind of woman marries a man with a teenage daughter and feels she can treat that young girl as a nuisance. I was an isolated child. But the worst was coming home from school with Karen there. She was cold and mean.

I’d say something normal teenagers say like ‘there’s nothing to eat’ she’d respond with muttering how selfish, or just some sarcastic’ right, nothing at all’. Then go to her room and shut the door. Or I’d say nothing and she’d make noises and mutter and go to her room and shut the door. It was rare to have any general civility. Being a young kid I’d take food and cigarettes into the downstairs bathroom and stay on the phone with a friend.

Of course Ken, always with the fucking DARVO, would lecture me that I had to be nice to her because she was ugly and unpopular in high school.

WTF

Your child had chronic bronchitis all through childhood. Is scared to come out of the bathroom. Is always afraid to move, and is always alone.

I managed to convince him to come to a therapy session with me once.

I’m told him, in front of her, about Brian and his friends using exposing themselves as part of their ongoing terrorizing me when I was a toddler.

Ken responded by saying I needed to ingratiate myself to Brian if I want him to think about forgiving me. The therapist tried to get through to him that I was a toddler and the wronged party in this story. Nope- it’s my fault and I should be ashamed.

He also told us that it would upset Karen if he tried to be to much of a father.

Not a successful attempt at therapy with him.

This kind of abuse, neglect, and DARVO has been consistent throughout my life. They don’t and will not do anything else.

I was so lost and so confused all the time as a child.

When is be at a friends house and their parents had dinner ready, I’d wait in my friend’s bedroom. It didn’t occur to me that I would be wanted there. Deep in my child soul, I knew it would be wrong for me to join another family’s dinner. I was so convinced for all of my childhood and most of my life that I was wrong for existing at all. I have always been made to feel so unwelcome and so wrong in every action or word that I would take that I could not think someone actually wanted to know anything about me.

And these people still have no remorse. No accountability.

Karen is an abusive stepmother. Ken is a gaslighting, abusive father. Brian sexually assaulted me and terrorized me. Shannon is a selfish, self centered creep.

Everyone in that family who has turned away from what nightmares I have had to endure deserves to face whatever karmic consequences people who ignore abuse face.

How nice you have fun and parties with people who have actively shunned and slandered a scapegoat child.

You should feel shame. You don’t have my forgiveness. But I will keep trying to make you all face this. I’m done carrying it in isolation.

I’m feeling good about writing everything here. It’s not relief. I don’t feel forgiveness or a sense of moving on or anything like that. It’s right though.

The people who have abused me since birth have not deserved the comfort of the lives they’ve lived.

They don’t feel remorse. Trees never once been an apology, or a show of concern for how anything may have, or dci to yes to, affect me.

Nothing. Even as a small child my well being was not discussed.

I remember feeling such deep pain watching other kids being cared for, having activities and things to do out of the blue, attention from their family. That pain was always at home too. My brother was doted over.

Sometimes I would break down and cry so hard.

Of course I don’t understand I was feeling the neglect. I look back in horror and disgust with them. Had my dad not looked the way he does, I honestly believe I would have been removed from that house.

I was an invisible child until it would break me. Or when they had time to tease, scapegoat, or criticize.

Never a kind word. Never a selfless act toward that small child. It was always, ALWAYS, conditional.

That never changed. Not one person in that soulless family has ever taken a moment to consider that the scapegoating, slander, and abuse might harm me. Not a moment of remorse. Not a second of regret for their cruelty.

Writing this confirms to me how much I would love to see justice at least once in my life.

For the abuse, the slander, the toxic exclusion, the scapegoating.

Or for the current abuse from the violent man, his minions actions, the theft, the animal abuse, the destruction, any of the crimes and felonies.

I’ll keep working towards that.

No, I won’t turn the other cheek or just get over it and move on.

The harm to my life, and the many lives of the animals around, is too much.

They’ve almost destroyed me many times. But they are completely worthless as humans. I have an appreciation for the living things around me that people like can’t have. The violent man and his minions, and the people in my ‘family’ that commit these abuses or turn their eyes away from it are missing parts of their soul. They can’t be complete people and excuse their abuse at the same time

I’m at this point right now where I need to reach all of those past traumas and voice them.

The violent man and the worthless people who follow him are still a constant threat to me and the animals that visit my home. Multiple cats have been killed and injured. I’ve reported it everywhere. People willing to do this are just violent at their core. Not to mention the incident of these men physically shoving me aside, on my property, to cut down my plants. Yes, I’ve reported this many times too. Nothing is ever done. I’m waiting for the state to actually investigate the multiple felonies of the cat lives lost, abuse, theft, destruction….

So it’s all going out publicly. Even if no one ever responds. No matter how few people read my journal. I’m not internalizing the pain. And I’m not letting these things just disappear with me or with my solitude.

I’m sick to death of people thinking they can have fun abusing a woman because they are sure they can get away with it. And I am beyond disgusted with the level of violence I have witnessed at my home in front of isolationist neighbors. I am shocked by the level of casual animal abuse around me right now. Cleveland Heights is failing. Safety is gone. Community is gone. Green spaces, wildlife, and trees are disappearing. They are in the path to be a parking lot suburb filled with violent people.

I’ll have more to say to them soon.

And I will never forgive all of the neighbors around me who ignored my pleas for help and continue to turn their backs on the violence happening in their neighborhood.

All of those ‘family’ members who have ignored my existence, hurt me, or ignored the abuse right in front of them will hopefully get whatever is karmically theirs to endure someday.

And I don’t care if anyone finds it petty, or whatever. I have sent links to my blog page to some of these ‘family’ members. I hope you all get to understand that I have begged to be treated as a human for most of my life. As soon as I realized that the neglect and abuse was not normal. And I have been punished for trying to be accepted. And I have been punished for being the daughter of a woman they hate.

I wanted love from these people for so long. I wasted so much of my life craving love from a soulless family.

There’s all of that –

Other little things have come up during the afternoon.🙄

So I haven’t quite gotten to my list yet. Stuff got done though.

The old pups I’m watching today are hanging out🐶🐶 it’s too hot for them again but we are together❤️❤️

I think I feel more exhausted today than I feel stressed. Hoping to get everything done early and turn in early.

Here’s a cat for happy thoughts

I’m definitely feeling tired and emotional this morning. I think my old pups in walking today would love to take a little pack nap with me. Hopefully nothing happens that prevents me from resting!

Yesterday afternoon I saw a small coyote out and about and limping around noon. I had four dogs with me at the time so I couldn’t watch where she might be going. I assume she was a mom looking for food. I didn’t see her this morning. I hope she’s eaten and is resting. I called the police and let them know she was around and not doing much if anything. I assume they drive by a couple times. Not a big deal, I know. But I’m thinking about her.

The past few mornings my backyard has been filled with busy skunks! Thank goodness!!

The past couple years have been heavy with yellow jackets and mostly pesky bugs after the destruction by that violent man.

The skunks came in and cleaned it right up! And the they are adorable and ridiculous 🦨 🦨🦨

I’m going to post about their extraordinary exterminating skills.

lol, my friends beagle sleeping over handled it brilliantly and calmly. They barely noticed him❤️❤️

I want to work on my next logbook project. And I want to start putting together a letter advocating for the rights of some of these animals, the cats, and caregivers. And I need to figure out how to condense a letter into a 180 word message for an online contact form.

And I need a nap.

This is weird. For 56 years of my life I barely spoke. It’s been a lifetime of people shutting me up. Shutting me down. Translating any word I might say into something they could condemn me for regardless of my meaning. I’ve been bullied, abused, neglected, and dismissed by every ‘family’ member and anyone who should have supported or protected me. And anyone who read the situation and saw someone they could bully.

After this violent man showed up. I can’t suppress anything anymore. I can’t deal with internalizing anything! I can’t quietly accept the scapegoating and bullying.

And now I can’t fit in enough words. It’s like they have just been stored up through my lifetime.

And now I can’t fit look back and see and hear how terrible these people have treated me. I could have done a lot in my life. I can see that had I been allowed I have always had talents, skills, and more than enough intelligence to do so many things.

Instead I heard only criticism and hate.

Ken’s repeated’ everywhere you go everyone around you is smarter, prettier, and more talented than you’

Seriously, fuck you Ken. And everyone who has let that happen to me.

Yesterday me and the dogs were sitting in coopers backyard quietly listening to a mourning dove coo for an hour. I’d love a little serenade like that. It’s mostly catbirds and blue jays in my yard right now though😂😂😂

I have plans written down to try to get cardinals and robins back someday. For now my lulls are a little over zealous. Luckily I love them too 🐦

Obviously I have no focus at the moment. A rest and a list and I’ll be ready for the afternoon

I woke up so late today. Some animals found that frustrating 😂

This weekend was extremely busy with all the furry friends I was looking after. Beautiful weather, naps, and lots of cuteness. Im grateful for the sweet animals.

Of course, my over stressed spirit brings the bad things up during these times too. I am still constantly working to be ready to leave these things behind and let the perpetrators keep their evil deeds. In the meantime I am also going to be noting these things so they are not looming around all day.

I was enjoying these lovely creatures, miracles and blessings! And my dad laughing at my empathy and love crept into my thoughts.

Every time. I express or show my empathy, my love, my enjoyment of the beautiful earth and animals we are blessed with and he laughs at me. He calls it stupid. He says all his horrible things about lives being expendable. I’ve listened my whole life to his disgusting beliefs about children and animals not having real feelings. Because he is a man who looks like he does people don’t pay attention to his words. It’s always been like that. Right out in the open. He says sociopathic stuff and people just smile and swoon over him.

When I took my sweet Lucy in for surgery to save her precious life. He was disappointed. Literally. He told me he was disappointed. He said I wasted time and money on a worthless cats life. Get another cat. It’s not worth the money to save one.

I am a scapegoat to that family. I was never welcome. I have begged to be heard and understood.

Is it because of my empathy? Is it because abuse I treasure these lives? Why?

The cruelty of denying a person a part in the family they were born into is an evil I’ve never understood.

These people don’t even know me. They kept me from speaking my whole life. They kept me from living a life. They kept me from growing and becoming the person I could have been. Whe I tried to speak I was shunned and blocked. When I begged to be heard I was slandered and vilified. And the truth is that I have never in my life tried to hurt another. is that why they’ve done these things? I can’t understand the harsh and cruel games some people play. I can’t engage because it makes no sense to me.

I’m not giving up my empathy. Never. I look at the possibilities of what my life could have been. What I was denied and it’s painful. But I won’t be like those kind of people.

I often wish I could have people around me who cherish the good. I know there are plenty of, none near me.