the photo I have just placed on my blog is of me with my son.
He was 2 years old, I was 14 years old.
Because of the way my mother chose to cover up what my father did to me,
taking my son and telling everyone he was her son, followed by telling me I had no rights and controling every aspect of my life, she managed to create a false history for me, and for the whole family. It took me fourty two years to come to terms with the reality, and to get my son to have a DNA test with me to prove he was my son.
I am completely thankful he has allowed and assisted me in this, and that we finally have the truth. Many family members dismiss what I have to say,
but they have their own denial to deal with. My daughters are glad to have a brother, and I hope to make things as comfortable for my family as possible.
Most of the people who know me do not have any idea this happened, and I'm sure more than a few of them wonder what is the matter with me.
I suffer from depression and post traumatic stress, but no longer suffer from lost memory [gaps].
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