Against my better Judgement

I was close to closing this blog down. Recent events in my life have made me feel like I couldn’t have an online personality, a presence, a voice. Strength came from the most surprising place.
So much of who I am has been determined from dark places. This seems at odds when I look at the light in my life and the people that radiate it. I’m surrounded by some of the most creative, generous, and warm people you would ever need or want....maybe I even deserve that but I do cast a shadow...I know that...I’ve always known that.
I have been censored so much in my life by myself, others, people that protect me, understand me, ones that do not understand me, do not protect me. I filter more words and actions than most. I need to as my life is something not everyone would understand...maybe this is why I write this blog. I’ve often questioned why I do.
Someone I love told me yesterday that I shouldn’t talk about these things; I shouldn’t ram it down people’s throats as they don’t want it and they certainly don’t understand it. I agree and disagree. I agree as I have always sensed that things that happen within my family are not normal, nice, or favourable...it appears I sensed right. But I also disagree as I believe others read to understand, to see the other side, to experience something different and new. But I also know that the most talented writer could never muster the words to conjure up true understanding which is why I stay silent, which is why I censor these things.
But there are some things, particularly in recent time, I need to express, I need to gain some understanding. So please read without prejudice as I will show a window, not a whole story, not the whole melodrama but a window nonetheless.
There is a gene, a rogue gene within my family. It travels in the men and its hostile, angry, mean, cruel, erratic, and remarkable charming. Some men in my family make the 6 o’clock news, the most wanted lists, they clog up the courts, fill up our jails. They all have a similar look, presence, mind and they scare the women of our family to death.
We fear for them, we fear them.
We could be any family, we could live next door to you, you wouldn’t know as we don’t talk, we filter, we censor, and we keep the peace. But we do our part in different ways.....we stand by them, we visit them in jail, we support them, clean up their messes, make excuses for them, and we take their hits, their abuse...... we become a part of them as we live our lives through them. We hold our breath and wait.....
For the next crisis, the next victim, the next arrest, the next threat, the next....
We build our worth on them, we build our lives around them, and we change our names for them, because of them.
I’ve recently had the honour, terror of being in contact with a victim of my family which has churned me and turned me. In a fortnight where my family has been under fire the most surprising voice came to the forefront and expressed what it is like to be on the other side of my family. Someone that has been terribly affected by the terror of my family.
All I felt was....
Understood.
And that is all I can say. There is too much to write so I choose not to.
I will be changing my name as it seems we have been found.
But on the horizon, beyond all this messiness, this horror, there is a chance to be something else.
And that is amazing.
Soon in your newspapers and on the television sets you will see that consequence of that gene, big, bold and terrifying.
Yes it is my family, yes I know what they did, and I know all the names.
But No, I don’t know why they did it, why they even could.
But please don’t hate for not being surprised that they did.
As there is a gene in my family, one I have hidden for so long, it appears that it’s been taken out of my hands, I can’t control what will be said in the coming months, years so I have just let it go.
I’m not a part of it but it is very much a part of me.
Digest it however you can...... with or without prejudice.