When You Hit The Nail On The Head

Today, I went to my Grandma’s grave and it was going strong with the smoke bombs/radon. While there I wrote my last blog post about my cousin J and her Mom, let’s call her Mom “N”. They are still going strong and did not make the same mistakes as my Mom. It is hard to say how they judge success, destroying people doesn’t seem to pay well, but I could be wrong.

N had a husband who worked at the hospital with my Grandma. He was not a housekeeper, but instead he transported patients within the hospital. Knowing that my Grandma was the boss lady and that my cult/the union enjoys using people who look harmless, I can guess there was some funny business for everyone who worked at the hospital with my Grandma.

J had a head injury right before she had her son. Head injuries and a child(a husband too maybe?) are necessary for people like me and J to reign. The children result in learned helplessness and dark empathy, but I am still unsure as to what the head injury does. I had my head injury at 8 and it changed everything. It made my brain better in a really weird way. I had more access to people’s thoughts, emotions, and feelings. My theory is that they make one like me who is feeling with a large emotional spectrum and one like J who lacks a complete emotional spectrum. When we work together we are a complete whole, but super human.

J was the only person I ever loved besides my Grandma and today I saw her true colors. She wants me dead, but she can’t overtly kill me. My heart hurts, she was all I had left of hope for my family of origin. My Grandma always told us to watch out for one another and love one another. Did she forget what Grandma’s love felt like? It is the only real thing I remember from childhood.

Xoxo

NiZi

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