I need to vent, I apologise. This will be long. I tried calling my mother today after about four months of no communication. As usual I got her answerphone. So I’m going to write what’s on my mind right now: I tried to call you today. As usual, you didn’t answer. You never do. It’s been months, and last time we spoke, I was at serious risk of eviction and you haven’t even bothered to ask since then if I even still have a roof over my head. It reminds me so much of 2010 when I came out of hospital, after a serious internal injury and you sent me a note saying I’d “cut you off again” and asking for a phone, call, or better still, a letter. So I write you seven pages and you didn’t call or even reply. I know you went to Dad’s memorial with Brian again this year. Am I ever invited? No. That makes me sick. You put every effort that you could into trying to make me hate him so that I had so very few years with him in the end, and Brian followed your lead like a good puppy. Every time I showed any resemblance to him you beat it down. I spent years hiding my relationship with him from you and now he’s gone you both act as if you are so wounded. You’ve apologised to me, and said that you’re sorry for the things that happened to me, but those are words. You don’t back them up. They’re empty. You dangle this hope in front of me that you give a shit, and every time I fall for it. What was one of the last things you said to me? That you a Brian don’t really remember those years? That’s such a lucky thing for you. God forbid you should ever see any wrong in your perfect son, or remember any of those years. And here am I, stupid as ever, trying to reconcile the way they broke me apart so that I can do something with my life. Apart from the sheer psychological terror that I grew up with because of you, or the shame and embarrassment of the humiliation and bruises apart from the constant “counselling” to “correct me” because I supposedly inexplicably hated you, you loved the one person who consistently abused , threatened and degraded me to the extent that I have harboured for over 25 years the idea that I am worthless, have nightmares every single time I fall asleep and that I fear sleep more than anything else. And let’s not forget my failures with Louise or Tegan. Still I try to be a part of this fucked up family. I got married, I got academic accolades, I set up my own life, whilst Brian lived at home and still spends half his time with you. And you can’t even make the effort to answer the phone or return a voicemail or text message? I guess I’m the same gullible idiot that I ever was.