I've never been so hurt or angry in my life. After a lovely day with my family, I made the mistake of reaching out to my siblings. Forget the anger, be a bigger person and just tell them I'm thinking of them.
Backfired. With interest. They were vitriolic, cruel and they have an interesting memory of events.
I thought that reaching out was something that Mum would have been happy to see me do. She'd have been proud at the person to make the effort to reach out.
Screw it. They don't deserve to know. They don't deserve my forgiveness, my energy or my kindness. That was my final attempt. Gemma can go to hell for all I care. She and her pitiful excuse of a husband are not worth my time.
From here on in on this blog, let's pretend I am sisterless. It's so much more pleasant that way.