Mental Health

I told on my stepfather for raping my sister for five years, when she finally told me what was happening, he was in jail within 24 hours. I was 16, she was 15, brother, 14. He was an abusive fuck to all of us, but he groomed my little sister. I saved her she said. We were then put into foster care.

Homeless, many times from 18 through my 20s. My maternal grandmother had a five bedroom house with only her and her husband living there. Retired, wealthy.

I never understood why she wouldnt take me in, or any of us for that matter. I had wanted a good relationship with this grandmother, I thought she was the most sane. But, I didn't know at the time who she really was.

She saw me as a bad person, because I aired the truth of my stepfather. Her husband, I found out in the early years of my adulthood, raped all his three daughters, and my grandmother, instead of adressing it and leaving him, protected him, and in turn was mean/abusive to these daughters of hers, my aunts and mother.

Ten years pass, my sister is on a visit with them. I don't speak with my mother or that side anymore. My sister texts me that my granmother misses and loves me while on her trip. I spoke a little shit, reminding her if she loved me she wouldn't have left me or any of us on the street, how she's very superficial. My grandmother was always more interested in what the community would think of her, if she lived the same lifestyle as them, keeping up with the jones' type shit, than with actually protecting and loving her own family.

Cue my sister saying, "you were always trouble for grandma, you're always so dramatic". I've heard these words from my mother too.

I never took anything from my grandmother, she never helped me in hard times, nor celebrated me in the good.

I was trouble to my grandmother because I spoke the truth about my stepfather, to save my sister, and she's was afraid, I would tear into her dirty closet. Took some years for me to work it out. That's why my grandmother didn't trust me. The irony of my sister taking my grandmothers side blew my mind.

I've a loving family now, so much love, and I'm glad to be the new matriarch, though I do hope my son chooses not to have children. Either way, I protect my family. In ways they never did, love, in ways they never did,

I'd rather be the black sheep than deal with lying idiots. When I heard through the grapevine my grandfather died of prostate cancer, I had a good chuckle.