August

I grieve the fact that my siblings are incapable of being authentic. I have to remember that their familial damage runs as deep as their denial. I saw the family farce along with the abuse and I began running away starting at 15. They stayed behind. Even with lives full of international travel, emotionally, psychically they have never left home. I am saddened and disappointed every time I hear from them because they are still there, stuck in the cardboard doll house. They're too mistrustful to get psychiatric help. Ultimately it's a fear of giving up control. I have to accept that this might be the way it is for them for the rest of their lives. They will never know themselves and subsequently we will never know each other.