He wrote to me again. My brother. My abuser. I hadn’t asked him to. But curiosity got the better of me and so I opened the letter, knowing that no good could come of it. (You can read his last letter here).

It wasn’t at all what I had expected. He mentioned nothing of our previous correspondence or my ongoing mental health issues. All I could think as I read his feeble words was that he’s an evil genius. He’s figured out how to really twist the knife one more time.

He wrote:

“I trust this letter finds you well.
We have some news that we wanted to share with you and we hope that you can share in our excitement. At the end of September, C and I will be introducing your niece or nephew into the world. We will be bringing our new little one into a world of positivity, happiness and love and we hope that you can be a part of this.

C is doing really well, thankfully no morning sickness. We have another scan in a few weeks and we hope to find out if you’ll be getting a niece or a nephew.”

Having told him I want never to hear from him again, I was shocked to get this from him. And I was angry at the assumption I will forgive all he has done because he has managed to procreate. It changes nothing for me. I won’t be bought.

My truth is not for sale.

At the same time, the letter feels like a threat. It’s like he is warning me now, by using his unborn child, that I can’t take action against him because he’ll be a father. And he knows our family. He knows that if I were to report him to the police, they would see me as vindictive and the poor baby as bearing the brunt of it.

I am shocked, angry, scared, disempowered, and alone in how this has left me feeling. I’m drugged up with Lorazepam in an effort to keep myself safe, as some truly violent fantasies have run through my head in the past few hours. I’ve not managed to avoid cutting, which I did pretty badly.

When will the endless barrage of shit that comes my way end? When will I start to believe that this hostile, painful world could be a place I’d like to call home? Every time I seem to be getting back on my feet there is something new and horrible to deal with. Another battle to struggle through.

I am so tired.

Photo: Ty Nigh, Creative Commons.