So why the hell am I here considering posting my life on a public forum?
I guess I just need somewhere to vent. Im 21 now and never before did I think I'd want to find my mum, well maybe there have been times I've thought about it, but now I really feel lik eits something I have to do. Everything else is going well so I need to deal with past, the big stinking obstacle that keeps tripping me up.
I keep trying to write that first letter: Dear G. I know you never expected to hear from me, and to be honest I never thought I would write to you, but here I am. Things have changed I guess. I'm more grwon up and feel that I need to ask you some questions, to hear your side of things. I would appreciate it if you could be honest, it may not be nice right now but it'll be for the best in the long run.
Why did you leave us? What made you need to go? Why couldnt you keep in touch?
And I know everyone's always said you dont know, but do you know who my father is? I dont want to find him, I just would like to know.

And thats where it ends. When I write it on paper I cry, yet doing it then felt so cold. Maybe its because I know this one is never going to get to her, affords me the emotional security I need. What if she tells me things I dont want to hear? She accused my uncle of abusing her. The family swept it under the carpet, said it was lies. What if its true? What if they are right and she does lie about everything. How will I know what to believe. I do know that I need to know for myself. I've had my head filled of propaganda against her for nearly 11 years now, thats how long its been. I know she was depressed. I remember her crying. Just crying and crying all the time. Most of my memories of her are of her crying. Or in bed. I remember the room, dark and cold and being scared. I went to the bed and woke her but it wasnt her that grunted back, it was a man. I think it was my brothers father, but maybe thats just my memory being kind. He was a nice man. There were others that werent. I dont really remember them. My mind draws a blank. One thing I do know is that she is gay, and my family are seriously homophobic. They didnt know when she left, but what if it was because she felt that she couldnt be who she was there. What if we reminded her of the lengths she went to to be normal? The dirty, degrading lengths. So many questions and I dont think anyone will ever be able to give me the answer, but at least if I get it from every side I can create my own truth from the tangle.