Entry 795: A Forest Of Trees

The lumberjack won’t remember every tree it cuts down, but that doesn’t mean the tree didn’t die. 

I realise now, why, when I asked my parents about any trauma in my past, they laughed and said there was none. 

It is because they do not remember every tree they cut down. 

They are the lumberjack, I am was a forest of trees.

I say they… it was my dad. But my mum was there too. She is as guilty as my father. She did not stop it. She stood by. Maybe she didn’t watch or encourage or participate, but she didn’t stop it. She didn’t protect me.



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