I wonder this because I know the life I had been destined to live was not, for lack of a better word, the "norm".
My parents died when I was still a baby as the result of a murder/suicide. From that day forward it seemed our caregivers were intent on proving to myself and my siblings that our sole purpose in life was to be used and abused by them however they saw fit.
I did not live but merely existed from year to year. Tragically, a brother committed suicide and I began my descent into the black void. His death nearly destroyed me because one thing I clung to was the thought that, no matter what, they could not break us. My brother had broke. I had a decision to make; start living or finish the dying process.
I made my decision. I wanted to live, not exist, but really live. The path I chose launched me towards a very difficult, painful and lonely journey I had to take by myself for myself. I wrote an autobiography of my childhood as I relived everything that was in my memory. I realized I carried guilt and shame that were not my burdens to carry. I became very vocal. I faced the perpetrators. I used every avenue available to seek justice and I "WON".
It was truly a joyous a day (and I remember the date) that I knew I had I left the dungeons of hell and evolved into a woman I loved.
This brings me back to my question...How unique am I?
