This evening I was doing an assignment that really shook me. I was to draw the floor plan of the, or one of the, houses I grew up in, list events that happened, and then choose one to write about. I chose one that was very significant, but I didn't realize how bad it was until I started writing. I got to one particular part, where we were at school and a teacher gave my brother food, and I watched him vomit it up and cry because he hadn't eaten in a good week...not because there was no food, but because it was part of the punishment we were having for something we did wrong. The depth of the anger and hatred I am feeling right now is intense. I've thought before to forgive, and I think for the most part I did as much as I could, but I can't feel that forgiveness for what was done to my brothers. How does one not react like this? I'm not finding it in me right now. I forgot so much of this, and that was very good, but triggers happen, and then I remember and I don't want to, because this is what happens, and I don't know how to deal with it right. Maybe there's no right way. I feel justified in it, but horrified by it, both at once.