7th or 8th

Dad is home for the first time since we'd moved into Shalimar.  He left the country the summer we moved in bc of my incident with Jessica Hong's mother.

I usually have the house completely to myself before school.  Steph and Dad have a full spread laid out.  I'm offered to join.  Each dish I go for, it's 

"Of course you pick the most expensive.  How arrogant."

"Of course you go for fried, don't you want your siblings to be proud of you."

"There's only one of that, you should leave it."

"That's not for you."

There are no more options left.  I go to prepare my normal frozen bagel.  "What's wrong, our food isn't good enough for you?"

I roll into myself so hard I think my neck will snap.  Steph is open mouthed laughing.  Dad has a blank look, like always.  I stomp off.  By the time I come to, I'm halfway down Welsh Road to the Willow Grove Mall.  I don't remember how I got to Sandy Run.  I cry all morning until I buy 3 ice cream for lunch.

The next day, Ms. Schwabenland pulls me aside and says, "we were all worried about you.  Your mother called frantic and crying, saying you attacked, then ran away and she couldn't find you."

30 fucking years.  Took me 30 fucking years to grasp what was set up.  I was 12-14.  She was 36.  Fast forward to today, luckily I haven't eaten in two days.  I'm being forced to live with her for 6months bc she needs my rent money for something.  Idk what yet.  I want to feel safe.  I want to feel free.  Will it ever happen?

----------

To be clear I didn't even say anything beyond "hi dad". i have been struck in private, publicly, ceremoniously, without warning nor explanation.  All of them made the first five layers of my body go completely numb, like armor.  But the armor also trapped my insides.  I was trained to take beatings silently, so I think that made my abuset believe it didn't hurt.  I also had screams and tears that built dangerous psi.

Anyways, I think Steph still believes physical assault is common so it's nbd to accuse others of it.  Like no good, but not unacceptable.

i am punished for

Steph being caught torturing me, so they took Jen away

That my mother is my uncle's bm

I wasn't as retarded as Steph told everyone I am and needed to be tied to a chair for 5 years

BC without me helplessness Steph, John, Soon, Suzanne have no where to live but Tabor Road

How I'd rejoice for a safe apartment on Tabor Road, free of stepmothers, lead, and mold.

what secrets do I know

That I deserve this?  What do I know that can bring it all crumbling down?  Why did Jen say she was my best friend for 30 years?

I know I must be below Jen, that's the first reason I've always lifted her up.  She has always twisted truth so severely that she is the reason I believe in real magic.  I'm still waiting to move past my 1988 hopes and dreams.

I won't kill myself bc of her, bc her power and rudeness doesn't change bc I'm dead.  I am not good and I am not bad.  I am a nothing.  I barely leave my bed, allmost never my room.  What is the poison that causes a woman who has always had everything, to make up such horrific tales?  Then to ask vigilante to apply the horrors to an idiot that hasn't figured out to leave her bed, not yet in 43 years?  Not a good plan.  A good plan to create enemies.  Jen's enemies keep me safe.

I do want to know how to help heal her heart.  How do you trick your retarded big sister into hating the world?  That's a special skill, to push a retard to suicide - one of those skills difficult to control.  Jen already has one child, what if she has more?  Shouldn't we try to save them from hurting like she does?  I hope Jen understands the hell she lives in, she keeps alive.  Truth, no matter how inconvenient, is no where near as punishable as lies made up purely to distract and humiliate.  I'm telling you again, your enemies keep me safe.  No one cares about my safety.

my life is forever ruined

BC your 12th birthday was the first birthday since your 6th I was invited to.

BC no one expected you to go to college.

BC your mother boasted how beautiful you are only in comparison to how unfair life was for me.

K.  What can one expect of you, never having the opportunity to learn is the blessing.  If you were me, would you have stuck around for that?  I loved you, each sandwich star taking 3 days you called store-bought.

Stop chasing me.  There is no one on Earth past and future who hates me more than you.  You were the garbage can therapist to 3 miserable women.  Stop fillowing me.  Why am I living rent-free?  Is it bc she knows what she did to me?  Can't control me so she'll control what everyone thinks of me.  Ok cool.  Hate, yes.  Forget me, don't look for me. 100% of the times you convinced me with FOG, I die.  Why would you beg me to come and then you say all night 'why is she here?'. Makes no sense.  Leave my brain alone.  Enough.

gaslighting

The following are all Steph hires

Not all Steph hires are listed

There're 2 others, but they're not meaningful players, the block's incel as it were (would anyone meaningful, of sound mind, see me as a moosehead to hang?) Darn the kungfu geisha corn laundress mold I can't fill. Or fill 3 times with my eating disorder.

Via the family plan phone log, Steph lied to J.Salisbury, former instructor at a school for the blind, l I'm a child abuser.  He and I never met.  First activity was attending a zoom seminar on "racism within the blind community".  BC Justin was paid by the quarter hour each time we were on the phone, when he became stalkery, crossing boundaries then gaslighting me about crossing boundaries, I cut him off like I do: excising judo chop! poof!  I'm a ghost.  You are a gaslighting monster, I'm a ghost, and you never existed.  No, you don't get a warning.  Gaslighting is assault.  Police!  He and I never met IRL, I tried to meet at the raised railway.  J refused, he had only arrived in Philly during covid, led out of Hawaii.

I have learned to share my hair-trigger of yelling, as soon as possible. Raise your voice once, you get a "you're yelling".  Raise your voice a second time? No finesse no ego cupping - zero explanation bc I've dissociated to keep my OCD at bay.  

How many times do you think I've been trapped on the highway with the driver screaming about what a fat weirdo I am for the full 90min.  Yell again, and you've been zeroed, disappeared.  Rich "lost" $6k then yelled.  Haven't talked to him in over a year.  I miss him, but my PTSD won't allow contact.  I'm working on accepting that there are individuals who intentionally use triggers.

Dave, who is best poised to defend me against the rumors, with first-hand evidence, rather has chosen to pile onto Justin.  Dave blames me for outing himself as a 1950's style racist.   Idk, the social choreo behind it, but I've seen the cause and effect my entire life: someone uses Steph's lies about me as a demon child to paint themselves as the normal one.  It's not necessarily about making me look bad, putting me in a terrible light is necessary for them to convince you they're very good.  Then the 2nd to last person who was put in this very anti dei position by Steph's intek, transfers their shame onto Dave.

The thing with Dave, the isming for someone his demo wasn't so bad.  Not progressive, but not a dinosaur, very inline with MAGA.  What gets the ick, he used me exactly for 1 year.  His campaign against me started on Day 1.  We know bc he didn't hide his election cycle based timeline.  What I didn't know until a decade later, Dave had lost his career of 15 years and left with several scarlet letters on his back, a few months before he and I met.  For such a formerly powerful individual to use a nobody like me was kinda tragic and desperate.  [Un]Luckily, a Midwest barbie had just pulled the same con reliant on the same 1954 stereotype, and so did a Cowboys fan from Chester.  All 3 said they loved me.  10-15 years later, 1 year after I figure out who Steph is: why did they use me? How could they reasonably expect to get away with lying to many individuals (mail man, grocer, neighbor, best friend, coworker, church member, doctor)?  Common denominator reveals herself.

Unlike Midwest Barbie and Cowboy who moved on, and left me with polite open invitations, J and Dave doubled down.  To them, as an Asian female college dropout, nearly 30yo and nearly 40yo, I am an individual deserving to be used.  To reject him is unforgivable, and obviously requires correction.

So yah, I'm a legendary ice cream eating child abuser and I see no way of fixing this lie.  I can provide my federal and state clearances, but the rumor followed me to a rainforest in Costa Rica (via only one possibility, p.s. she made out with Chuck)!  

Don't get me wrong, they've won.  In 10 days I'm homeless, 6 teeth, lipedema, lymphedema, a1c of 14, ckd2, zero savings.  Without my antibiotics from overseas, my titanium plates and I go into septic shakes.  My life continues to decline, I'll never be in a position to adopt a dog.  

And I'll continue pointing out the truth until my last breath.  It's a trauma response.  No matter how inconvenient the truth is, it's miles better than lying to or about the most vulnerable.

The real reason is obvious why, when the powerful paint those beneath them, poorly.  It's a given the needy would be on their absolutely best, albeit unpolished, behavior when offered an invitation into a finer world.  Everyone knows, as a marginalized individual, I only get to keep my honor by giving up opportunity to earn a dollar - bc that's all I have in the world.  I can sell off no house, no jewel, no standing, no family.  I only have what I alone know I have bc I chose poverty.

Born-into-wealth is held to a unique set of standards.  Access granted by ancestors selling souls. #realrecognize

-------

I do wish I had been given away to a group home

Or better yet given up for adoption upon birth - less unrecouped expense ill never pay back.

I understand there may be less opportunities for stability in, for example, foster care, than in my basement. In state care, there's a lack of predictability.  A stranger that's not your parent has the omnipotence of a god over when I sleep/eat/poop.  A stranger only gets paid if I never get well.  A stranger pockets whatever isn't spent on my food, clothes, school supplies, doctor's fees, extra curricular tuition.

But I would have known.  I would have known my gut is correct.  I would have known I'm not imagining things.  I would have never assigned those behaviors as loving.  Maybe in foster care, or a group home, I would have received no love no modeling no guidance.  But I wouldn't have been convinced that I was loved.  Punished when I doubted their motherhood.  Convinced I was spoiled rotten.  BC an optionless lying ex stepmother coerced everyone into believing so.

I didn't abuse my brother.  I never did anything to Jen, despite her boasting what she is allowed to do to me.  I barely ever saw my siblings pre college.  Only 5 years after dad died did either reach out.  Being a good big sister was my only source of pride, or should I say my final rubbery band of a sinew of an identity.  That was a farse too.  Each time I dropped my life for their's, it was a game to them.  I'll forever act as a big sis, bc Yi did praise me regularly for that.  Rich and Jen will forever be my final heartbreak.

I know now.

I will never look back.

They lied to keep me

Then lied and said they can't get rid of me

I can't unsee their trajectory, the idea that they will be in the same house as I, suffocates me in doom.

I know now, I was only ever a meal ticket passed around.  It doesn't feel good, but it feels better than anything I've known yet.

They'll never have access to me again.  

Or so I labor for.

Jen and Seb still read my emails and review my bank accounts.  Why do they think they have the right?  Even if i'm not as human as they, with a brain like a dented can on clearance, why does my limitless half sister and her bd have a right to my emails and purchases?  

I can't understand jealousy or envy, bc I stop wanting as soon as someone else wants it (even vegetables and prizes).  Tell Jen I've never been jealous of her, I don't think anyone is.  She can relax, not be so on guard, most people are happy with what they have and find competition useless.  Jen, check your sources.

Saturday Mornings at Ponderosa

One of my favorite memories is when I got to go out Saturday AM, with Jen and Steph.  I had never been to a restaurant.  I had been to a few banquets but that was hours long, buffet, open bar, tables so large, several kids fell asleep beneath one table - not at all like table-service in the morning 

I didn't know we order drinks first.  I tried to order a plain hamburger when Jen interrupted me and said to the server, "we'll both have a hot chocolate with whipped cream".

When they arrived, I thought they were ice cream sundaes.  Jen said she wanted more, so the waitress squirted whipped cream so high, right there at the table.  I had never seen a sundae irl, I had never seen whipped cream before.

I still love it when she requests whipped cream on her virgin strawberry daiquiri.  Each time Jen orders, Steph gives her a look of, "better be careful with all that dairy".

context not excuses

When I reveal my my Shakespearean origin story, it’s not to pass blame or punish through shame. Two things you should know up front:

1. I will never punish anyone for anything. This is a problem, but not one I care to fix.

2. They’re my parents. At the end of the day, no one loves me more than they do - and I can’t love anything more than I love them. You should have seen my occlusion, posture, and strong feet when I lived with my mom.

Here’s the truth: my parents’ culture could have easily committed infanticide. They let me live. They fed me. They housed me. Not because it was easy, but because they’re softies - the kind who still dream and hope and wish and believe in the unknown. If I had an autistic kid, completely deaf in one ear and halfway to legally blind by age five, I’d do a better job at inclusion and accommodation. But I also have no social capital at risk.

My autism has decreed that shame is a scourge.  It's not bc I haven't lived much life, it's quantum thinking.  Shame warps natural selection, tilting it toward the sneaky. Not clever, not cunning - sneaky. The kind of people who’ve already decided they’re destined for the middle, and that their only way forward is by staying two steps hidden. I’ll participate in shame after someone teaches me how to avoid it and I choose it anyway - because I want shame. Until then? Pass.

And here’s the hinge - my parents’ big life change started with about three drunken seconds. That’s it. Three seconds that shame then stretched into a lifelong, life-rearranging saga for six very important stupid-beautiful adults and their teenaged kids with plans of their own.

Immigration? Straight-up hellish. Designed to traumatize. America greets immigrants with fear and hostility when those who emigrate are the most hippy dippy, starry-eyed dreamers.  Employers sell the American Dream — rugged, resilient, rebellious — but the arrival is a slap: designated scabby kung fu geisha, eyeing the dulcet Audrey Hepburn. Imagine the whiplash.

American legacy maxes out at four generations. I hate moving after two years; I resent having to learn a new grocery store. The soft-handed Ahns had lived in the same golmok for four thousand years before landing in 1984 New York. Try raising a fussy baby in that.

can I wake up now?

My life isn't real. It's one of those life lesson dreams.  In my real life, I'm the stepmom, and I'm horrific, afraid of a 3yo for staring at me when I crash out.

I promise I've learned my lesson.  I'll be a good stepmom. Please, enough of this.  I'll give her back!  I promise, when I wake up I'll detox the child of sugar and send her back to her real mother.

Please no more.

why are you here? go away.

I'm sorry I didn't get the hint.  You were patient, tactful, kind.  The more you frowned, furrowed, persed, ignored - the more I stayed.  I see how you could believe me rude and disrespectful.

I'd received that look always, since birth.  When i started school and teachers smiled with soft eyes bc I walk into a room, I came home and asked Steph what their faces meant, bc she made me repeat for hours "no one loves me like my mother".   Steph said they were making fun of me for being fat and weird.

When I saw Bok once a year, I thought my aunt was making fun of me for being fat and weird. 

Every giant party I was forced to attend in scratchy clothes around touchy strangers, when I found Dad's face he turned perpendicular to me. If I shifted into his view, he interrupted his own conversation to roll his eyes and gesture to have one of my cousins take me on a drive until I fell asleep.

My point of reference was fucked.  Now, I've got flip books and posters of facial expressions I stare at.

I'm very sorry.

Jen's Abuse

It's difficult to separate Jen from Steph, Jen from Yi.  It's not about forgiving, it's about learning how to read people, learning how to keep myself safe.  There're sadists, then there are sadists who raised Jen to blame the rain on me.

Jen would warn me about Stella.  Well, everyone warned me about Stella - Asian Caucasian teachers classmates fathers David Amy.  And Stella would warn me of Jen's anger.  I'd laugh at both and say there's nothing to worry about.

Richard's Seizures

I woke up this AM, two memories flashing like when Jen downloaded the buddy virus.

1.  Steph saying Rich choked on Korean BBQ in the bath, and began seizing.  He was 13mo.

2.  Dad saying someone hid his car keys, delaying their departure for the emergency room.

--------

Did Steph accuse me of hiding the keys?  A 1yo nearly drowns, so she frames a 9yo for infanticide?  Is perfectionism that severe that a seizure needs guilt and blame?  I know Steph was doubted, but so was I.  Who would I be if I had known Steph was lying about being my mom for a paycheck.  Who would I be if I weren't responsible for ruining their lives of a dozen adults upon my conception?  What if dad married Suzanne.

Stephanie said my childhood seizures were for attention.  Then she caused a 1yo to have 3 within 3 days.  Are Rich and I that worthless?  Why, bc of who are parents are?

Please don't make me move to Gwynmont.  I will die.  I will die.  Check the call log.  Please.  I will die.  After 6 years of diabetes management, and mold and parasite cleanses, there has finally been a break in the brain fog.  Like literally last week was the first two consecutive days without a nap, since I can remember.  Only last year, I finally stopped sweating buckets of putrid sweat.

Check the call logs, please.  I don't need anyone punished.  I just want to live.  That's it.  I want to live without always prepared for her to break down my door.  I've tried, I can't stop, each time she promises then denies, I feel in my bones she will break down my door and beat me awake with a Polly Pocket shoe.  I've had a go-bag since 1st grade.  I developed freeze at 3yo.  My survival skills peaked at 3yo.  Not my left brain, my librarians and teachers were Cinderella too.  But my lizard brain, peaked at 3yo, freeze is the best I can do, please squash me with your fancy shoe.  I don't need more opportunity to disassociate, I want to live as me.

I no longer expect or allow any man or woman to be my person.  I believe love is real, intellectually.  My body says love is a booby trap.  100% of the men who had sex with my body lied until I said no more then the truth changed and I was called crazy.  It's like me and the dentist. I know I need the skills of dentist, I know I need a person but there was too much pain while my brain still formed.  How Steph sat in the room and held me down as I cried and tried to stay quiet, and I still couldn't chew.  My body won't let me.  I have to eat myself into oblivion after each appointment to come back to Earth.

The infected titanium continues to eat away.  It won't be much longer.  Please, check the call logs.  I need to go far far away, deep enough, that the animals of the forrest let me know ahead for a day a car is approaching.  

when she was 40, I was 15

I had no one ever tell me I didn't deserve it.  Steph would hurt me, tell me it never happened.  Dad called me a liar.

It wasn't until #metoo, when I had become an adult and imagined hurting children, I couldn't.  I think it's genetic.  Yi never laid a finger on me.  Soon threw me down the stairs by my ponytail.

---------

This is as dad officially introduced his new wife 

BC of Jessica Hong's mother's post shame fueled campaign, and Steph being 3 hours late, "mom please, she won't leave me alone, where are you?"

"WORK!!!!!!!  WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, LEAVE THE GAS STATION?!!!!!"

She screamed so loudly, her voice shrilling through the phone silenced the entire after school crowd waiting for their rides.  So I didn't call after the 2nd time.  I never called Steph again.

I disassociated from 07/28/97 to 2018.  Not bc of 1997.  BC Steph beat and screamed on a schedule.  I was missing incisors with half finished veneers from 1998-2001.  Then 2003-2006.  

BC she stopped paying rent every November.  BC she called the police.  

For 20 years my eating disorder and untreated MODY basically left me with Alzheimer's.  Living over a decade in a 250sqft apartment where each winter I broke a shopvac on mice poop.  I'm finally clearing up the parasites and on insulin.  But with one eye and ckd at ii.  It doesn't matter, knowing she lied all this time, kept me unwell to keep getting paid ... I feel so free.  Finally, something makes sense.

And now I have to live with her.  BC she wants to steal my furniture.  At least I know I won't die.  At least now I know she needs me alive to get paid.

I'm 41.  I'm sure it's genetic.

May I heal?  May I cut her off?  I want to go far far away, where no one can find me.  I know it followed me to Costa Rica.  Stella sent me there.  Steph knew about the cook from Madrid, how?  I'll keep going further where even Stella's ableism can't reach.  I deserve to know a life that has nothing to do with my birth.

I know I'm supposed to feel the shackles of marriage to fully understand your behavior.  You are a man.  No one condemns you to rapable bc you smoke cigarettes.

if I die, my one wish

is that Steph was never pulled out of school.  She graduates and never feels her life was stolen.

separate but equal

Is it possible Steph taught Jen and I different stuff?  Like how to dress and table manners?  Jen wouldn't let her do that, right?

let me go

I see there is no goal

But to feel needed

She breaks minds 

Poisons to death

Breaks children's hearts

Father's hearts

Siblings apart 

So nothing can happen without her

But she's so useless bc everything is about keeping everyone down

And we must be less than her

I'm the foundling retard idk how to get any lower

Please let me go and never let her know where I am

Amy's Care

In the last 6mo, I learned one of Steph's favorite topics is what a bad dogmom I am.

The amount of straight up shouting I endured if the concept of helping with Amy's vet bills came up.  Then why don't you put her to sleep if you can't take care of her.  Steph already put one of my dogs down without my consent.  It's the screaming, it's my kryptonite.

I thought Steph screamed bc she felt guilty she couldn't help more.

I tried to earn and keep a job. By the time I worked at Petco, every local vet said Amy is fine.

Why aren't I allowed to leave?  Why did Steph and Jen call my schools, church, employer's, landlord's, partners?  Why won't they let me leave?

withholding advice

Every once in a while, the subjects of this blog will check-in and see if I'll still offer the same recipe, suggestion, diy I offered before I blogged the truth.

Of course the instructions to the cost-cutting diy remains the same.  Why would my knowing what they did to humiliate me change the procedure to a science experiment?

It hit me just now, that they hoard knowledge like they own it.  Like they are able to judge who "deserves" to know how to get through life.  

Incredible.  Idk, I feel info is given freely.  I feel useful nuggets were placed conveniently for me to pick up as I please.  It's not paying it forward, it's the nature of knowledge, it belongs to no one.  Who knows what unseen developments wait to be discovered.  What if I was too lazy to speak and I didn't share something not so important to me, but was the final piece to their puzzle?  

Facts are facts, no matter what shitty thing you or i did.  Scapegoating is maddening and misleading, it's such a waste of time and energy.   I know someone who's been in touch with SM/Minime has been told I don't offer advice.  It's cool, I hit it out of the park bc the bar is set so low.  It's sad though, to understand bit by bit why the two women most important to me did their own grave.  Like, how do you backpedal out of that?  I didn't know they were so defensive and felt everything was that scarve.  Like, even the US now is pretty ghetto, but it's not that scarce.  We do have the WWW.  Sigh.  I hope they release this anxiety some day.  It's not a trauma response, Jen never experienced going without, and Steph has expensed everything to me my whole life.

Jen/Minime

Someone out there knows she's been like this since she could walk.  So I appreciate that it could be so much worse for me - without my books and predisposition, I could be who they say I am.  

Her mother, my sm, is trying to force me to move into Gwynmont, so sm can blame something on me, and then say I was the reason she had to move house.  Same playbook to Jen's divorce.

How much I lost at work, i gave up so many Petco shifts to visit Jen bc she said she needed me.  The entire time it was to blamee for her divorce.  That month, Amy had to cold turkey go through Xanax withdrawal, after 5 years of daily meds.  She never recovered.

Accel SAT Prep

Accel SAT prep wasn't traumatizing. I was ok bc my birthdays preceding were far worse. Jessica Hong's mother was indeed inappropriate, and I can imagine the event may traumatize some individuals. But to me, she never got loud, never super mean, and her grabbing me was the gentlest touch I had received in a decade. Disassociation is an adaptation i had mastered by 2yo. Nothing can reach me when I'm in my Narnia.  One of my older entries honestly describes my love for situational depersonalization.  The response at Accel was as if nothing happened, except for Ms. Pak and her bagel.

Whenever I brought up the Accel event, it was to give context as to why I don't hang with Asians. I had never met a non ableist Asian then, and am still waiting to meet one yet. Ableist don't want me to exist, different than murder me, ntl Asians are terrified that my autism may be blamed on my Asian physical appearance (this is not an Asian thing, it's a transplant thing. Lack of roots requires a child of immigrants carry 3-4 generations of character on her back alone).  Steph likes to insist that I was traumatized by Korean adolescents to keep me quarantined from the crowd she proselytizes to.  

No one saying good bye, everyone leaving while I'm in the bathroom was normalized by 4yo.  Sedation was merciful, but I'd developed a tolerance.  It was either leave before I fall asleep, of return after I wake.  Point is, I'd already healed multiple times, from adults blaming their borderline criminal behavior on my existence and made up horror stories.  Highschool proved me masterful, not a single feather ruffled - not even by the alchie Mr Pring.  Then my cool non reaction to the regular goading by a grown man against a freshman made me creepy?  #abusersalwayswin #damnedifi

Ms. Sample wanted a reason to stay at home with her infant, which in my book makes her awesome, but she needed a justification for not earning a living? Idk. Eventually everyone else figured the scapegoat pattern out.   I was never upset by her picking on me or her unhinged accusations bc I had been through this hundreds of times, each time dad taking Steph's side as the only side - there is nothing I can do, and the hysteric knows it.    I think this is why some of us feel so old in highschool. While still in diapers, we'd grown familiar to our parents stuck-in-adolescence ebbs and flows.  I understand as your child i am imperfect, blaming your adult life on me seems flawed, but I guess this is the latest narrative we're basing out identity on, ok I'll be here.

Because of who dad is, I was never made fun of outside of home.  Sure, I was left out, but I was respectfully well-received by whoever I approached.  I come from a brown, broken, uneducated household - I felt like I was wisely not choosing to not choose from my limited options in the most pretentious of the montcos.  I had received such pressure from dad to hang with Koreans. After Accel, I never talked to another Korean except for the investigating Sarah Moon, the paid pushers Jennifer Oh and Paura Stella Heo, and the sweet Donna Lee. Socializing as the daughter of my parents was like pageant life. Dull, expensive, based entirely on looks, and constant sabotage.  It was obvious who Steph hired, they treated me like a pet rock with a credit card.

And similar to pageant life, anyone on the outside easily observed the Lord of the Flies quality, the idolizing luxury car at 16 arrogance of the Korean Clique was toxic. I felt blessed to have friends who had nothing to do with that life. Especially juxtaposed to Jen's impeccable hygiene and wardrobe, I think this poopooing of the status quo made me a bit of a darling amongst the veteran faculty - and they shielded me from true whippings.  I know why Steph likes the idea that I was traumatized by that birthday in particular.  If I was extremely hurt, then that is why I hurt my siblings.  And as if my birth parents ever participated in any birthday, both dad and birth mother may completely abandon me after my 13th birthday - having never asked for my account of the event.  And the veneers began.  I have been waiting my entire life for life to be safe enough to begin.  I don't know how to do, I only know how to wait.

I promise, what happened in front of Accel was fine. Multiple adults conspiring and condoning the ritualistic humiliation of a preteen occurred so many times before that, and when I did show pain it was dismissed. I learned that adults humiliating children on their b-day is nothing to feel over.  The crying is bc I'm a crybaby. Ask anyone at Cheltenham, I cried twice a day bc I was perceived.

normalizing terror

Soon Nae, Steph's mother beat the shit out of me as well.  She didn't starve me or leave me unbathed.  She did swing me down the stairs by my pony tail.  I told Dad, she cut off hair that was down to my waist the next day, so short I couldn't tie it at all.

I had to stay with her for a year.  Dad's family had bought the split level colonial on Hillsdale, but when the neighbors found out who my biological parents are, we moved to the other side of Melrose.

We returned to Soon Nae, after Steph ran Clifton into the ground.  The neighbors reported us bc I wasn't in school.  I was given my sleeping medicine then immediately locked in pitch black garages with their male friends.

Whenever Steph told me to forget about what Soon had done, I did.  The only words anyone ever said to me for 15 years: "just do as she says.  She's your mother.  Why can't you just do as she says?"

For 37 years I thought Steph was the best most perfect hard working loving birth mother, and she and I can't get along bc I haven't figured it out yet bc I'm so stupid and born bad.

I'm not saying I am perfect.  I am autistic, there's a lot wrong with me.  But my intentions were always showing Steph that I love her and that she can relax bc I'll never leave.  I had the same mission for 37 years.

I get MAGA

I was MAGA for 37 years

I've never had much, only what I can find in the trash

I found it in the trash, I didn't steal it

Why is it ok for Jen Steph and Soon to steal what I have?  They have each other and all of the money dad leaves.  

BC I'm fat, ugly, stupid, bad, retarded

If you tried inviting me, and I gave you my non response, I'm sorry.  I understand how generous it is to invite me.  

Let me explain: when I stayed at Gwynmont as my flooded apt was repaired, both Suzanne and Stephanie ran into me in the guest room, before and after yoga.  They were in gear, and made comments of improvement in quality of life overall, or how today's class improved something specific.  After a week of this, as my post sepsis stopped improving, I asked if I can join a class.  Both said they're uncomfortable with that.  Skipped only a day before resuming stopping by the guest room for a day, and then restarted sharing how great yoga was.  I asked if there was another class time.  I was screamed at for being selfish.

PTSD

It's not being hated by my parents, their kids, and my babysitter that's fucking me up.  Its that when I asked why they hate me, I was told I'm stupid and crazy bc they love me so much.  When I gave up on my madeup games to entertain them, and sat looking out the window, silent, as they did, offering no more than a shrug before leaving without saying good bye, I was punished for being spooky.

It feels like Jessica Hong's mother screamed at me on Tuesday.  On Thursday, Sarah Moon says, "and no one stopped her. Even Ms Pak, the owner's wife came out twice, and she didn't say anything.  We all sat on the wall of the planter and said nothing.  Jenn An and Pam Lee would follow you into the bathroom, giving you no alone time to cry, though you begged for a moment to catch your breath.  You know they were laughing at you while they screamed 'are you ok, why are you crying' from the hallway."

Later in the day on Thursday, Ms. Pak is substituting for the instructor.  For 20 minutes she tries to eat a bagel with cream cheese.  She never manages to take a bite.  As she pulls apart the halves and presses the bagel together, squishing the cream cheese in disgust, staring into my soul as she says, "this is why Americans are so fat, all they eat is bread and cheese".

I had turned 12 on Tuesday.

I was still sedated all weekend and every holiday.

I don't know how I'm still alive.

You know the burns on my right arm?  I never felt it as it were happening.  I'd watch as if it were one of those surgery programs.  Gross, but can't look away.  The healing of a 2nd degree burn on my dominant arm with zero antiseptic nor bandages was beautiful.  The body is capable of making flesh every color in the rainbow.  There are dozens of viscosity in fluids that body employs.  And the various fluids all dry into something structural and protective.  

Problem was i'd scratch it all off in my sleep, so itchy!

Today feels like the Friday after the Thursday people who eat bread and cheese are so fat.

For two years, I ate a Lender's bagel with one slice of American microwaved for 50 seconds, once a day, that's it.  I had purged for three years. I couldn't get any thinner, I'll always have a belly from a core built like a crushed soda can.

terror

I wish someone had said

Your dad uncle and mom aunt wish you were never born. 

BC they are incapable of accepting the consequences of their actions, you must stay out of sight.  

You're not imagining anything.  There was a humiliating, ludicrous, highly public fiasco - with you at the center.  You parents, siblings, and friend who invited you, watch on with everyone else, bc they were a part of the team effort in your humiliation.  Jen was trying to help, "the point is making you want to die".

No one wants you anywhere.  No one cares if you live or die.  You're weird and Asian.  Your phone reveals everywhere you go, you're too easy to ruin, so what if Steph cut you off each time you established your own phone plan?  You have no parents, ruining your life is a way for those wishing to, hone their skills for reputation destruction.  Stop freaking everyone out by existing.  You're too weird for free community dental and medical clinics.  Forget why you're weird, no one cares - you scare the good normal patients away with how you walk and can only open one eye.

This is who you've always meant to be.  How did not a single adult notice you were at -4.0 by your first pair of eyeglasses?  Darling, they knew.  Your birthmother hates you. Bok Soon Ahn, my birthmother hates me.  My father, Joong Man Ahn, saw my body rot and spirit die by 3yo and left me in the car to go fuck.  I asked him not to park by the scary tree with the knots.  His decisions were smart, he's so wealthy now, he was smart to throw me away and forget I exist.

Have the sugar with coffee

The juice is delicious and kind 

The chocolate luxe and unconditional 

Potatoes and rice love to feed you, they have never hurt, not going down not coming up.

Abstain for what?  For Steph to call the cops: "hello, yes, 911?  My ward may have a waist.  Please come and arrest her for making healthy choices."

Give up.  You're never getting away.  Trump wins.  Israel has no concern.  Steph always succeeds in killing me bc no one will stop her, she's doing the community a service.

you can't keep me

Dad, Steph, a counselor, and I met as a group once. all 4 of us sat at a child-height, low round table, as a school counselor explained, "almost all abusers were abused themselves.  If you grow up that way, and no one does anything about it, a kid matures into a person thinking it's normal".

Dad says in Korean, "my dad beat me with a baby tree where even the servants could see and I've never hit you".

I remember saying out loud, "mom, were you abused?" 

Steph chortles, "of course not." Then where did she learn from? Everyone else says adults hitting kids has never been ok, but if you grow up that way you think it's normal".

"Does this mean I will hurt my kids?"

Counselor's body cheers up and she says to the three of us, "No. Many abused minors go on to protect kids, for their job. Police officers, counselors, teachers, PALs (like me), and lawyers and doctors.  And they do an especially good job bc they know how important it is. Some people believe kids don't feel, and we know that's not true."

----------

TL;DR

It's nice to know why, it totally makes sense. Confusion is a triggering hyper fixation.

If I were in their position, I would do the same, except no one believes anything I say about anything.

It's extra nice to know I can stop trying, there's nothing I can do about it.

I still won't go outside though. At home I die on my terms.  Prison is a great fear, where I can't open a window, or choose to die.  Stephmother has goons everywhere, at Walmart and Wegmans I have two associates shop with me the entire shop. Unless I shop after midnight, I'm not allowed to use self checkout. If I walk Ben during sunlight, I'm chased by Karen's on Derby, Gwynmont and Trotter. Once they catch up: "my son is home. When are you leaving?" I'd tell Steph, Jen, and Rich what happened and they didn't know why either.  For 30 years, I was told I'm too sensitive and paranoid.

I guess I did ok. According to Suzanne, if dad were alive, he'd disown me. Little does she know, he never claimed me. Didn't attend any graduation and did not invite me to his naturalization.  He did attend 1st grade June Fete, hours after the last booth was packed up.  His work is very important.

In 40 years, I've been in the same building as dad for a total of 12 waking hours, I can count the number of words he's said to me. I haven't, but I could.  His work is very important.

Most moms kept their kid but mine

My mom kept 4 of 5

Why did she have to lie and say she's my aunt

I'll never fully trust my gut

I'm very good at keeping secrets, you just have to specify

I did ok!!

I need to find a sponsor, bgl are above 350 24hrs despite 50-80units of insulin/day.  I want to do more than ok.  My mind is clear.  A sponsor wouldn't let me punish hard-earned clarity with sugar.  I smoked 3pk/wk for 15 years.  I promise you sugar is 100× worse.  It feels like I'm rejecting the only being that's never failed to comfort me.

--------

cont'd

It's so satisfying: today, the Yangs say it is inevitable I grow up to abuse children BECAUSE I was abused!  Satisfying: I'm not imagining anything. Nor making up stories for attention.  

they knew I was telling the truth.  this entire time, Steph knew her cousin babysitter regularly sexually abused me.  Satisfying: I wasn't a 6yo seductress!! She chose him as an overnight babysitter despite knowing he had raped her sister 13 years previous.  

I was severely traumatized after Jessica Hong's mother, bc at the later dismissal time, as the sidewalk is at capacity for pickup, she grabs me by the wrist so stiff she tears off a metal watch, and shouts, "no wonder your mother beats you!". 

It wasn't a secret, I kept it a secret!!  I'd only admitted it to Sarah Moon bc she asked so many times at the Fall Retreat. Will I be punished for this too?!  How many people just heard!!  Worst July 28th of my life.  And I had a month of classes left Steph said she couldn't get a refund on.  If Accel were free I could have stayed home.  Its ok I was a shy and grumpy kid!!  I did ok!!  12yo me did ok.  💪💜👍

all bullies were bullied. not all bullied become bullies.

Youre expecting me to be sore

That I have been rumored a child predator since 3yo?

Wasn't it obvious it was to cover up Steph's abuse at 25yo?  Both birth parents too ashamed of who they fucked to help a toddler out.

No, no anger.  Since 2002, I've grieved the idea of mother/stepmother, thread by thread, in therapy.  My accepting while her denying her fraud was the final puzzle piece.  At her birthday, she lied about being my mother, retelling my birth story.  Lied to my face in front of her mother, husband, and sister.  I needed to witness the act of egregious lying.  I have it on video.

The clarity is overpowering 

The relief from 40 years of confusion is euphoric 

— am I bad, stupid, fat, ugly, unwanted, the wrong race?  No!  Well yes, but I'm addition to the lie of dangerous towards children.  

The clarity is Euphoric.  Yes, absolutely so and so will feel justified in humiliating me, bc they were told by Stephmother I am a violent child assaulter.

I didn't know I was accused until covid, when I began investigating who took care of me my first 6 years - I discovered many individuals betrayed by Steph.  Some not betrayed.  All had avoided her since before the funeral.

I'm not saying I was faultless and perfect.  Absolutely not, beyond year 2, all models were poorly paid staff.   I have the poorest comprehension skills, and my brain is messed up. I know loving as damp, corrosive, lazy.  I hoard midst celebrating no need.

BC of stepmother smear campaigns, I'm saying that on my first day, I started on my last.  Since 13yo with the help of Sarah Moon covering for her dad and Rachel's mother in front of Accel Hagwun, Steph flew free flapping her lying silicone lips at every dentist, job, apt, University someone hyper moral and self-appointed had their finger on the trigger, ready to shoot my head off.  Upon onboarding, I was at 2 strikes 3 fouls, set up to take a cheap bunt.  Upon move in, management was ready to flood my unit.  Add to that, I have am Asian with an evil genius for a baby sister, fat, autistic, ADHD - to be invited at all is a big deal.  Upon RSVP and a handful of texts exchanged, stepmother uses the family plan to know who to call and notify them of my butt, feet, poop obsession.  Oh, plain pizza, turkey and cheese, mozz stx, and ice cream too.  To be fair, I made tons of mistakes, serious ones too, like hiding my ick for your poopy foot kink.  And soggy fries.  Who raised you.  

Oh, if she told you I'm a sex worker and you believed her?  Thank.you.so.much.  I wish I had the looks, body, work ethic, customer service skills, lack of sensory issues, self-esteem, and savviness.  My literal shortbus brain still associated yam mashing with love.  And don't touch me, you're itchy.  I'm sweaty.  Is this how we do it?  No I will not open my eyes.  Thirsty.

I am white hot about what was done to a child, and an entire community didn't try to stop the creation of an abuser by abuse.  Drunk with power from marrying dad, Steph admitted that her abuse is so extreme, that she turned a 3yo psychopathic.  All of my behaviors born from a lack of love and enrichment was left with her to isolate even more.  

Each time I remember one of my fairy god mothers, it's like my white hot smoldering rounded back is doused in a cool fresh pond.  I look up at the sunny surface of the water, green hued like leaded glass, covered in sparkles of 6AM or 6PM July sunshine.  I slowly drift to the still floor bottom.  It's quiet and slow, sound travels slower than light.

Fortunately, I am blessed and neighbors, teachers, librarians saw me for me, Steph for Steph.  We need to thank them for my not growing into another Elon {(autism(Steph/Jen::Suzanne/Alex)) = Elon}.  Can you imagine an Elon with big boobs?

Or a Steph looking Elon?  Holy shit.

---------

I hear someone saying, "well she never actually said she didn't do it".

I have never

Hit

Scared (unintentionally, yes, and apologized for)

Left

Beat 

Locked out

Inappropriately touched (**xually and all of the rest)

Intentionally lied to (I have passed on bad info as top tier intel)

Withheld medicine 

Denied food or water

Abandoned then hid from at Sam's Club

A child or adult. Never.  I hit Amy once.  The look of utter shock then disappointment on her face slices something beneath my left ear each time I remember that butt slap.

Human?  Never.  I know what it felt like as a child, as a teen, an adult.  It never feels ok, always feels terrible.  The best I can do is observe from the ceiling.  As if it happened yesterday, or earlier today.  And how I was badgered for "acting weird" or "cried at bath time", and when I explained why I was scared, I was punished AND called a liar.  Then a slut. A 6yo slut who seduced a nearly 30yo man into a weekly drugging and assault.  After Dad finally figured it out, 12yo Wendy told me to wear an acid wash denim pencil skirt so tight I had sweat rash down to the knees all summer.  She paraded me about church and said, you're telling me she's 7yo!  Wendy is my babysitter's niece.  She was in the same room when it happened, over and over again.  She said she never heard anything but me snoring.

I remember it now, like it's happening now.  Every time I am gaslit, it's like the first time, exactly like the first time.  That I'm not real, I'll never be a real girl.  Everyone hates me bc I make them hate me and I have to fix it for mom so she doesn't have to love something so hateable.

accountability

In the last 5 years, Steph's grandson was diagnosed autistic.  Immediately I am no longer a r-word incapable of learning anything.  I only have PTSD.  Yes, after 38 years I was never the uncontrollable moron that deserves to be tied up and beat.

9 out of 10 times, no one was around to witness any of the abuse.  But if I take what Steph says about me, and how Steph processes guilt, then I can get an idea of how far her torturing of a mute toddler went.

When have I ever not been a problem, when has Steph not abused me.

Ok. I get it now. Steph has always given herself away.  It was difficult to fully grasp Steph's abuse bc no one could imagine a 27yo hurting a 3yo to that extent.  Her obsession with controlling Dad was excruciatingly obvious by how brainwashed I was.   Sigh.  Yes.  Very messy.  Cringe city.

Ok.  Can I go now?  Do I have to stay with her still?  I see who Rich has always been - bc he was forced to believe he's special bc his birth mother drowned him while dissociating, which she is known to do bc her first 5 years were torture.  I know the role Rich plays.  I am a former child soldier of Steph.  I know Rich's heart, the man of the house since day 1.  But above all, I'm autistic and my purpose in life is to find the common denominator.

Rich, I never bathed you.  Never.  There is nothing wrong with your brain.  Steph is shortbus, but her manipulation is so pervasive that everyone flees and gives her what she wants.  Look at who her parents are and education - despite her history Steph has done remarkably well.  

The only Christmas Eve dad spent at home, my first awake, was your first Christmas.  So many presents, like the entire living room was covered in wrapped gifts.  It was too much for me, I hid between the wall and sofa.  They found me to show that they had dressed you in my Teddy's Santa costume.

Steph's envy began to spurt uncontrollably at your 100th day and she sold $20k of your gold rings for her slots.  Your seizures happened on the next Christmas Eve and Christmas day.  I was in the basement.  I don't know how it happened.  I was supposed to bathe you with help for service, but the bathroom door was locked and I wasn't allowed in bc I was late.

I was told that on Christmas Eve Steph was feeding you korean bbq while you soaked, you choked on the meat, began flailing, then the ER.  It's ok if you continue to maintain your beliefs. But one day you will be ready, and you'll remember how it happened.  And you'll do the what ifs, and I promise you, I know what it's like to trust Steph with everything, and trust no one else.  She needs it that way.

BC of what Steph says, no one wants to marry either you or me. Not bc they believe her words, but bc she would be the mother in law.  It's obvious why Steph says what she says, and truth has nothing to do with it.

Rich, nothing is wrong with you.  I tried to get you into normal school after one year, so Steph had Amy fixed and shaved behind my back.  You are hyper rational, extremely good with people, exceptionally good attitude, patient, kind, creative, and hilarious.  Steph and John know you deserve much better.  If I were them I'd build you up so I can ride your coattails to old age.  They can't let you have a worry free car.  You're going to do it.  Abundance walks towards peace.  Chaos never makes it past the lowest amongst their own.  Somehow peace receives wealth with zero manipulation and lying.  Peace is generous and forgiving.  Simple and honest.  You are peace.  

----------

Please,  I have served 40 years, I deserve to feel safe bc every creature on earth deserves to know safety.  Please?  Never again, make my life so I never have to ever be ready to protect myself from her.  Give Steph a job that makes her so happy that she doesn't need my stipend.  Give her prisoners from El Salvador.  Or keep her here and send me to die in a hole.  Just promise me she doesn't know how to find me.

I understand my fear is over 35 years old.  Do you understand I wake up terrified, where is she is there heat?  I pass out from exhaustion, terrified.  I'm only free of terror when I pass out.  It twists my insides like ribbon candy, wafer thin parts of me shatter regularly, are swept up and recycled.  No big.  Life goes on.

I know I don't have to be fearful of her anymore.  I know I have become my own prison guard.  But she did it again with my jaw surgery, why did Jen have to call Penn?  She hadn't crossed my mind in over a decade, how does my oral health effect her?  Each heartbeat feels so heavy.  Only while on IV antibiotics did it feel like my blood weren't made of wet cement.  I know I was supposed to die.  I know I was supposed to stay mute.  I'm sorry you had no condoms.  I'm sorry you had no abortions.

What do you think it feels like?  To always fear for something I could have never predicted.  That when I ask for a confirmation of my account of reality, I'm made fun of and punished with denial of food and water.

What would life be like, not unafraid, but confident there is help getting up if I fall.  The gesture of helping me up promises no one will salt my resplit knee oozing clear orange fluid, with her mother pointing and laughing, proud of her daughter's cruelty.

I

Want

To

Feel

Safe

I

Cant

I see how not living in fear is necessary in order for me to live life.  "Not fearing" and "moving on" is directly literally asking for pain and humiliation.  If I clean my space, Steph will rip me out of bed and smash everything.  If I cook healthfully they will spit in it.  It can always get worse.  Smile along, go back to bed.  Nothing matters, pray for sleep.

Maybe my clothes are on the floor, but there are no shards of porcelain figurines.

Maybe it's all takeout and it's killing me slowly, but there's no spit, no pointing and laughing.

This is me trying my best.

40yo

I'm 40yo

With no teeth - do you know how crazy that is?  

$70k on lifetime of pros

$45k in the last 5 years - only post sepsis syndrome persists

What could I do with teeth?

Steph

Steph?

Why wasn't I allowed to leave?  Plenty answers offered to me since I began investigation.  But you have injured each of them, their responses are tainted with revenge.  Mostly to do with how obsessed you were with dad and hoe creepy he found you and your whole family.  Several Yang women could not control themselves, at.your.wedding..  They said I was the only way he'd continue to send you money.  Oh how he hated you.

But even after he died.  Why wasn't I allowed to leave?  For pure entertainment?  Slots debt?

Why couldn't you and Jen leave me to bond with my birthmother?  Jen and her child flew over for Christmas during covid lockdown?  Twice? Why?  To interfere with my reconnecting with my birthmother for the first time in 40 years?

Ok what's your justification for that?

So what if Bok called you for help in breaking my heart so I'd never come back.  Did you have to help her in that too?  Fly from Europe unvaccinated to break my spirit over having been abandoned and lied to by my mother over Christmas...to feel helpful.  Ok.

How hurt was I, regularly frightened, that I couldn't trust the sight of my own hands.

That I was too afraid to listen to my gut, safe only when I believe what you direct me to believe. That you are my birth mother, no one loves me but you.

I know where you end up.  I know where I end up.  The end can't get here fast enough, where you and I communicate as equals.  Not one set of arms tied behind their back, not one side never informed of the penalized rules.  One an illegitimate baby hidden from the world.  The other a 25yo woman raised in the ghetto with her siblings, both parents sahm, grandparents, cousins, employees, husband, birth daughter.

You and I will have access to the same knowledge, and only the wits we were each born with.  Both adults.  

My goal is everyone knows everything.

Can't wait.

the children are our future

Every victory I am aware of, involves a miracle, fluke/mutant genome, a Mary hailed.  But only atop a mound of hard work with no end in sight, hoping, "stfu you scrooge", and a heap of trolls trolling.  And pretty ladies.  She makes it all worth it bc she cares about the kiddos.  And her heart-shaped butt when she walks rushed.

TL;DR

Can't I matter wo parents? No, there is no punishment for frightening me, nor making me cry. I wish you wouldn't feel so much pride from hurting me, no one cares. I hope you never know what it feels like to be your sister, though that's the only way you'd stop - this combination of utterly trapped yet vulnerable from all directions leaves little room for sanity and hope.

I know who you are, that's why I've always played along and never hoped for the truth. But as I watch my country jump at joy for fascism bc change is that horrible, while the others cannot believe what is happening under their noses - I get it. And I can't sit by and do nothing. I don't know what to do to make it go away, I don't think it can. The tiles were laid hodge podge, or so I thought, before I knew it I'm in a 6 sided cell. They planned and planned and executed and followed through: revel in their hard work!

What I do feel, our demise is inevitable. But I don't have to coat it in chocolate for the bad guys. I'm here to say this is happening. Observe it on a small scale, can't you recognize the fractal? You must. But as we dig our own graves, and maybe our children's too, I will not have a good attitude. I will not let those coming up fall for the same ruse as I. If my voice is punishable bc I want to avoid repeating me — I have no choice, I will voice until I die.

suicide

I'm good at pattern recognition 

Recognizing my biological sister and mother were pushing me to suicide seemed impossible

1.  Gaslighting myself 

2.  Various methods i was pushed to suicide

3.  Why would a 9-12yo push for suicide?

4.  Why would a 42yo woman lying about giving birth to her employer's daughter push daughter towards suicide?

When Jen Naired my brows off, the day before 10th grade, Jen told me the goal is I give up on life.  I told her she doesn't know what she's saying.

I'm not going to kill myself

It's not easy, I've tried.  Since 7yo I've had stashes of pills, razers, rope.  Maps of bridges and intersections picked out.  Goodbye letters regularly updated.

I can't bc I have PDA, and it's become obvious it's what a select handful want from me.  I have no tools ready.  Last holiday season I ordered handcuffs and materials to make a noose that I can't get out of.

My blogs were screeching for help, and no help came - fine, can't know for sure what is read by whom.  But in November, when Stepmother drops me off at the ER with cellulitis of the jaw, she refers the intake nurse to my LJ and this blogger.  

And I realize this has happened before.   She pesters and chases and shoves as I lay covered in my own vomit she continues to list how stupid, fat, ugly, useless, hated, weird, bad I am.  I know I'm dissociating bc the chilly clamminess clears and I feel comfortable.  I know she is sitting directly in front of me, but her voice and face seem a football field away.  I'm aware her closeness can still kick and scratch - it's her voice that hurts most, it's her over enunciating hard consonants that cause nausea and the relief is euphoric.  Imagine your mother bundles 5 steel reusable skewers, oils them, and stabs them into your temple, through your cheek, smashes ear to shoulder, so the metal can reach your trap.  If you try to straighten she clubs the back of your head with a flat pan and long handle, pickleball racket at the end of a tennis racket.  Her voice is a skewer bundle.  When I dissociate, skewers don't exist in that plane.

That's when her ar style stops.  Then it's the hours of her hum-able jingle, "I am your mother, no one loves you like I do".

Dad shows up later that day, after more than 6 mo of being away.  He used to come to my room or to the basement living room.  Now he just screams from the top of the stairs "we're going to be late!"

Late to what?  I haven't washed in days.  I own 1 pair of underpants.  He's disgusted with me when I climb into the running car.  For the rest of the evening, in front of 6 of his friends and their wives and kids, I'm invisible until there is cake and he screams as I near the front of the line, "don't give sunhee any!"

Do you know what my dad's most frequent comment was?  I don't ask him for help, or advice, as if he's stupid.

a pattern emerges

Last year, in 2024 Stephmother says she beat cervical cancer in 2003, 5 years after meeting John.

In 2003, Stella and Helen, two classmates who became Stephmother's paid minions, call me once a week asking if I've been tested for STD.  I was a virgin for half of 2003, tested clean, but I still got tested once a month.  Stella, Helen, and then Sarah and Jen ask about HPV during winter break.  I'm still a virgin.  G had been going down on me, can I get it that way?  Both Stella and Helen describe the cauliflower resemblance, not helpful bc I will prepare raw veg for the first time in 2008.  After the girls stop with the STD phone calls, I'm still obsessed with safety and testing.  For much of my life I test before and after every time I had contact, and save the report jic there's an epidemic and I need to prove my innocence.  Scapegoat trauma, am I right?

G, my first partner says he tested negative.  CeF my 2nd partner says that HPV is primarily a female thing.  Men can get warts but can go asymptomatic.  Unless they biopsy a patch of wartless penis skin, there's no way of knowing.  CeF's fam owns all academic research labs in NC, so I trust him.  I call G, he admits he lied about getting tested at all.  It's very invasive to get tested and he knew he didn't have it.

For the next twenty years I can only have sex if I am completely disassociated.  Good guys hate when I go zombie.  There is a type of guy who loves a catatonic hole wailing like a whoopie cushion.

Anyways, last year I figure out why the girls were so interested in HPV, 25 years ago.  Instead of Stephmother calling me and telling me about her experience with beating deadly cancer, and how I might avoid it, dear loving stepmother convinces people I normally have no interaction with to save me from my promiscuous behavior, how to recognize cauliflowers on my lips, and why not burn them off at home.  

Soooo that is why Steph has called me a prostitute my whole life.  

Suzanne also introduces people by saying, "that is xxxx, she is a slut."

How do you know?  

"You can tell by how she dresses, that's why she's popular."

Let me remind you that's how she met dad and he tried to Pretty Woman her and then Steph stole dad.  I swear, Tabor Road girls brought up coastal Amish.

proof: she spreads horrific tales to every corner of my life to protect the public, but wants no official investigation? bc an official investigation would prove her false? prove her true, I get sent away, her pay stops?

- The following is a mess, but I stop editing if I don't publish

- The topic is very emotional and taboo so I don't know where to the line is 

- an appropriate ego keeps a lonely little girl safe.  "Taking it with a stiff upper lip" is set aside for the ruling demo.

- It's the most important piece of my puzzle, summer school teachers and bus drivers asked every year, why did sister summer without me, why was she driven to and from school. I think this is why.  Maybe Stephmother validated her child abuse as an adult, by accusing me of child abuse as 3yo.  I've never been envious of Jen or anyone: bc I have nothing!  I was punished until I passed out if Jen didn't have something she wanted.  Jen, Steph, and Yi ate lunch as I hung upside down.  School knew from my limp the next day, it was totally normal protocol.  3rd Grade Ms.B was the first to object, got me eye glasses, and assigned the dream catcher over Thanksgiving.  BTW, Ms. B was reputed by students and TA's alike to be the scariest screamiest and most strict. I didn't know I received special treatment (good or bad), and I thank Ms. B's healthy ego needing no accolade, in turn keeping my ego tiny.  I do wish I knew yo thank her before she passed.

Ms. B didn't try to show me or change my mind.  I didn't take home as punishment.  I preferred to believe my life was normal, and she let me continue to love Jen and Steph.  I took it as my duty in order to exist.  Taking it without snot and loudness made me a good girl.  See how one might thank God for autism?  See how as an adult I'm OBSESSED with equity?  How to me, the rejection of DEI is an admittance to preferring to live as a formerly domesticated animal sent out as a teeny stud during drought and war?

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Backstory tonwhy I need mother's mental health, pre-k to be quality and free; why citizenship should be more possible and more difficult at the same time; having "preferred" nations is ass, addiction counselling.

#1  2025, I have never been told that I harm children.  I want an investigation into my alleged crimes.

#2 1990, Stephmothrr chose her cousin who had been hoofed in the head twice before turning 18, who had raped her sister 13 years previous, as my overnight babysitter so Stephmother could spend my kindergarten tuition on slots.  In 2009, Suzanne sat between my child sexual abuser and I, at a table for Soon Nae's 70th banquet.  Beside him say his wife and mother of 3.  He still had that 3 nostril nose.

#3 1992, my only protectors from my birthmother's side were exiled by Stephmother's stories, as my child molesters

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How do I set off an investigation against myself? I want everyone to know everything.

Interview us individually and in group setting.  Please.  Please let the truth be.  Let everyone know everything.

I've already lived the life of a pariah, but was told by "mother" it's bc I'm fat and you're racist.  Truth can only make it better.

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Remember one thing, 

through the fog of high sugars, 

she had taken everything: books, beds, moms, friends, children 

but loves to provide sweets and frozen foods

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Sunhee, Stephmother called every doctor, school, apartment, job and told them that you hurt children - there is no greater sin

- I didn't know she said I hurt children

- I figured it in the last year, based on reports from Target HR, treatment at PDM, and medical records sent to my last dentist - quotes with names and phone numbers

- Also found out 5 years ago, I'm invited bc I pay the entire tab if I'm invited (attendance not necessary)

- I am a pathological protector of children, I still feel the blows 3yo me receive, the loneliness of mutism bc some assume mute = deaf

- For 30 years she told Rich I tried to drown him?

Stepmother said I tried to drown the first and only human who ever understood me?  I have never tried to bathe him. There are 9 yrs between us.  I understand Steph was forced to acts older than her mother since 12.  I was forced to act 5yo my whole life.  Interview everyone.  Though I was locked away I am confident, if all storylines are cross referenced, I am confident.

- Why was I never told of my crimes?

- Who gets paid bc he can never be normal?

- Who gets paid bc I can never be normal?

- Who is hiding hereditary brain damage? 

Check the tapes.

If she really wants predators gone,

Why wouldn't she make a report? Why only spread rumors to every corner of my life? Would an official report require an official investigation?  Would a public report make everything available to everyone?  

Why when I run bg checks on myself, only anonymous reports made against Stephmother on my behalf come up?

BC she needs to get paid

Drive her Lexus to her leased laundering business in the ghetto 

She knows she has no other skill

But to steal children from their mother

Stop the sweets 

The only thing Stephmother gave freely was sweets

Stop equating love with sweets

Equate sweets with blinding poison

Heal

Prove Amy right

Get far far away from the one who needs me mute and foggy

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I'm not angry about my lost life, i'd been called retard like I weren't in the room, my entire life. I've also been called a liability, and that's proven true. Only individuals with social capital that came over on the Mayflower stick around. And they're not so bbali-bbali.  They too only have the freedoms their parents grant.

I am forever angry that my protectors from my birthmother's side were accused of molesting me. BC I was my uncle's bastard, Steph the savior's finger pointing was that of Apollo - and they were exiled without investigation for their monster repellent back scratches, affirming and comforting snuggles that made me feel like a real person, the only individual who ever said both goodnight and goodmorning, she also showed me no hair root was pulled out with a normal hairbrushing.

Yet Steph chose her cousin who had been hoofed in the head twice before turning 18, who had raped her sister 13 years previous, as my overnight babysitter so she could spend my tuition on slots.

Is it ok if I am angry with money? Can I disenfranchise money by making healthcare, education, clean water, real foods, basic housing non luxurious? Would the most basic entitlements continue to be quarantined only for the creme de la creme like Elon-Belon?

If housing, whole foods, education weren't luxuries, would any mother need any man to be a good mom? Maybe Mom would need a great man to be the greatest mother ever, but no man needed to be a very good mom.

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Yes, they threw you away based on madeup rules for shame and honor.  Yes, Steph taught Jen to take advantage, Jen believes to her bones I must have nothing.  The Yangs stole your 3yo life, burnt dad alive, kicked you out at 17.  Straight from the sedated basement, sent you away with one cardboard box, to Spring Garden before gentrification.  Laughed from the belly with their whole body when you didn't know where to buy a shower curtain.  Her husband and his kids live off of what dad left, and those three grown men believe in their bones that I am the burden.

You made it this far

Want to prove those lying stupid people right?

Get out of bed

Take your medicine 

Heal your heart

Prove Amy right 

Imagine who you'd be with a healthy body

They were born with hearts that enjoy making orphans cry from fear and hunger.  Despite all of your injuries, betrayals, and a mercenary like Paura Stella acting as your only friend, misguiding for 20 years, your heart feels no pleasure causing pain, and wants to fight ever repeating me again.

Stop the sweets, they're killing you!

Do you need a reminder, who Stephmother was while I was blind?  That is who she is.  No, she can't help it, but do you have to take it?  Get away as far and as fast as you can, because Stephmother can't help it.  Why do you think her school offered no half semester scholarship to their number 1 student, capable, deserving, and kind?  Soon's genes present in Jen - survivors not academics.

Stop eating sweets.  She loves giving you candy and McDonald's.  Remember that, through the fog of high glucose's thick syrupy blood: she had taken every prized book and pen away, but loved to provide sweets and frozen foods.

Stop the poison.

Fine, stay in the corner, where it is "safe"

I promise there is no one to mix metal hairs into your toothbrush anymore 

Fine, eat as much as you want

One thing: stop the sweets stop the poison 

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I get away

Promise 3yo me

Steph gets a real job

And let's me go

A foster family and group home could never force me to call their behavior "birth mother's love"

Promise me, I go to the state by kindergarten 

Maybe by 5th grade, I'm set free by truth in an institutionalized ward

Before my eggs are stolen

I couldn't help this world, it still hurts the defenseless and protects the invincible, how would I explain the state of my life to my children?

You see, the fatter I am, the less teeth the safer stepmother's behavior is?  No "Freddy" sent to my house bc I'm 145lbs.  No more Shareiff feeding his harem while I sit alone staring at the wall.  No need to use my call log, bc I have no smile and live on bread.  No goons on the payroll as long as I'm 200lbs.  When will she and her minime stop hiring fake suitors?  Can I use that money for modern insulin instead?

I understand I don't have to fear for my life anymore.  Can you understand there were multiple occasions where I did need to fear for my life, and instead I trusted?

freedom

What can I say when little me asks, "do we get away?  Are we safe?"

No.  It's the teeth again.  

Years of missing incisors:

3-8: all four pulled at 3yo, first tooth grew in at 6yo

15-17, three unfinished veneers for sophomore - senior

19-21:  #9 crown failed five times for sophomore - junior

32-current:  #9 at 32yo flipper snapped in half, #10, #7 snapped at 34yo, wiggler #8 pulled at 38yo.  Lefort and six implants started at 39yo.  

Today:  upper, no upper teeth four out of six crownless implants infected.  Lower, eight wigglers and five crownless implants.

We're more afraid of Stepmother and Minime than ever.  How does Stepmother compel hired goons to break my heart and body so well? She pays so little.  Endless goons = endless funds.

To keep safe, never see more than what they want.  Keep your head down and obey.  Take it without protest, if you do, it will get worse.  If you tell anyone about the abuse, you will be painted insane and no one will believe anything you say about anything ever again, and the abuse will get worse - it always gets worse.  They are developmentally typical, and they've been a team for 37 years.  Accept that you will never outrun them, you're on a track they set up with booby traps 10 years ago.  You are developmentally broken, on no team, and can't believe your own eyes bc you want to believe they love you as they ask of you.

No, we don't get away, but we do master avoiding punishment.  Be very still, say nothing, think nothing.  When it's obvious you're being set up for humiliation show no objection, and crash splendidly.  If you aren't embarrassed/embarassing to the max, the  Stephmother and her Minime will be sad.  Your brain is a useless burden, you want to accomplish nothing, and obeying is safest.  Continue loving, they'll love you back someday.

everyday since then, like it was yesterday

I was on Ikea.com, looking for countertops, this is where I ended up.

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I think it was Graco, mine in yellow liver color.  That table was an engineering feat.  It didn't come off after I had rocked side-to-side and landed on the floor with an eyeball shaking 'thud*.  Like I fell on my shoulder, the table broke our fall, and it still didn't relent?

When I'd finally permanently broken the buckle to the seatbelt, she found a solution and tied something around my hips and the back of the chair.

I used to fight my punishment like a banshee, running crying writhing upon capture, dripping huge snots i'd choke up later.  Hyperventilating as the table clicked into place.  That chase for my life left my muscles so sore the next day. Eventually, I learned to turn on my alternate universe within an instant. They didn't have to leave me in my own universe. It was a choice.  By the time I'd return of my own accord, I woke up in a dark car in a parking lot I didn't recognize.

If I ever did anything bad, she'd get my attention, look at the chair in the corner and then back at me, back at the chair, pointing with her persed lips, and back at me with overjet teeth clenched and lips curled in.  That cold lump of burning in my throat, so thick I couldn't turn my head, the sudden tinnitus so loud I rushed to hold my eyeballs from squishing out.  If I was with a cousin or dad, I'd hear them calling my name from a precipice 1000 feet above, "Sunhee.  Hey Sunheeee.  How strange.  Ok we can play again another day, bye."