There are layers to why you won’t or can’t believe me when I ‘discuss’ their actions.

Of course there’s the standard, typical “it’s not happening, it didn’t happen”. But also that you cannot possibly understand – I can’t explain it and it can’t be understood in words – and you can’t believe something you don’t understand or comprehend. It isn’t understandable. Its un-real. But it’s so everything to me, it is me, I am that.

You believe me now and you don’t know, but once you know you won’t believe me. Not sure why they don’t line up. Perhaps there is never any real ‘knowing’. It’s not a book, or a movie, or a case study. It doesn’t fit into 50 minute segments.

How can I believe you? If you were to some level/s believe me that somehow would perhaps indicate a level of care and connection. Not sure how I feel about that. Guilty, obligated, responsible.

I sound angry. I am. At myself mainly.

By detailing individual or types of events doesn’t explain the broader context which compounded those events. Something as simple as him making me sit on his lap in the lounge room is benign, yet even now makes me nauseous, and carried an element of fear and confusion and that in some way was just a continuation of what he always did. Even if he didn’t do anything that time. Each time was a hundred times.