Gail,
I am asking you this directly, and this is not the first time.
Will I be able to attend my own mother's funeral?
Yes or no.
I was not invited to attend my father's funeral.
I was not invited to attend my sister's wedding —and this is a directly related example.
Gail: many people throughout the family hate me because of lies that you told about me.
You and Barry both told lies about me.
Beth, also, told lies about me.
These lies were —for you— utterly self-serving.
Other people in the family have told me —verbatim— what those lies were.
I am not using my imagination.
So: will I be able to attend my own mother's funeral, yes or no?
Gail: you beat me and screamed at me throughout my whole childhood, and this only ended when I was physically large enough to stop you from beating me. Those beatings (and the endless hours of screaming) were often insane, and often had nothing to do with me (they were not some carefully measured out punishment because I'd done something wrong). You know this.
You and Barry both were willing to make up an astonishing array of lies to cover this up, and to silence me if I dared to mention it, and you were equally willing to lie to cover over much more trivial "inconveniences", such as rats living in our kitchen: you have denounced me and defamed me for my entire life (even when I was a teenager, it's amazing to say) and you have always been eager to claim that I'm the cause of every problem —even when I was eight years old (etc.).
[Footnote: the reason why the rats in the kitchen are mentioned here is that it is one of the few examples my mother is willing to admit to. She and my father both told many, many people that I was hallucinating and insane because I factually (and calmly) reported very obvious (verifiable) evidence that we had rats living in the kitchen (and, also, I had seen the rats directly). The evidence included, for example, a bag of bagels that had been gnawed into by tiny teeth and claws. My mother absolutely insisted that I was insane and hallucinating (again: saying this to many, many people) and then —nevertheless— was screaming and weeping very much like an insane person when she finally discovered the corpse of one of the rats herself, inside a kitchen drawer.]
Beth has imitated you in this respect: she also lies about me, blames me, etc., and you (and Barry) have been willing to pretend that her lies are believable (although they are not).
Not a single one of my brothers or sisters sent me a single email in reply when I sent them photographs of myself holding my daughter (as a new born baby) in my arms: not one of them sent me an item of clothing or a toy for the child. Not one. I was the youngest child in the family: none of these people have ever behaved like an older sister toward me, none of these people have ever behaved like an older brother toward me. Never.
I was not invited to attend my father's funeral. I was not invited to attend my sister's wedding. I know why.
Many people asked about me at Beth's wedding: they asked why I was absent, and they told me the ridiculous lies they were told in reply.
Will I be able to attend my own mother's funeral, yes or no?
Gail: if you don't think about this now (and if you don't act on this now) there will be negative repercussions that are really quite predictable.
E.M.
