do I talk about it...

So now I am left wondering do I talk about it? I opened up part of a story that had it's own resolution. (see post below if you are wondering what the hell I am talking about.)

Do I finish the story? Do I fill it in? Or do I leave it looking like I am an ass because I don't have much concern over this woman's death? I know she was miserable and unhappy, so she is better off. I am sad for those that are close to her because I know this is a horrible Christmas present.

Talking with them and just being on the subject brings up a lot of stuff for me. I am, to my surprise, handling it extremely well. I almost feel like I have actually started to move on.

But I haven't truly dealt with all the issues. I don't even know if I've ever told my husband all the horrors that I went through. Well, actually I do know-- I haven't. I just don't like to talk about the subject. I like to pretend that part of my life never existed.

But it did exist and had very real consequences for a very long time.... including my ending up in a mental hospital and my having very, very serious mental issues.

But, I overcame ALL of it. I have SUCH an amazing life now. It almost all seems like a dream. I have a hard time recalling specifics. I don't talk about them or think about them. I lead a life that most people dream of... a life of happiness. I truly don't know many people that are as happy as I am. I do know some. A handful. But not many.

And I know I flaunt my happiness at times. But I have been through hell. Pure hell. And I deserve to be happy, so I refuse to hide it. And while no one on this Earth knows exactly what I have gone through... please just know that is was a true hell. To the point, where I am surprised I survived.

And I am damn proud of coming out the other side.

My one hang up with all of this is my brother. I do have an older brother that I love. Very much. I had to give him up when I gave up the rest of them. He was a casualty that I hated to lose, but I had to. There wasn't a way to do both.

And I would love to see him. But that pulls me into the rest of the story. Where I don't want to go.

There isn't even a funeral or service. Just a party at my older brother's house. So, now I have to figure out if I go or not.

I am sorry this is such a rambling mess. This brings out more than I can process sometimes. And since I never talk about it, I guess I just don't know how.