Evil is Never Satisfied

At my dads viewing I was enjoying visiting with all those that came. Family that I hadn't seen for a long time and friends that I hadn't seen for even longer.  It was wonderful. 
The bishop made a small announcement that it was time to close the door as the family was going to have a family prayer and close the casket.  We quickly gave last hugs and said good byes to friends.  I took a seat next to my husband and kids, with one fast look around the room there wasn't enough seats for all those who called themselves family some lined the walls.  Did my heart good.
The bishop thanked all that was there and asked if Guys family could come up before the family prayer to say one last good bye and close the casket.


I stepped forward and had the most powerful feeling of darkness and dread.  I remember putting my forehead on my dads as my shoulders started to shake, I held back a flood, but I released a low whimper.


As we left to head to the chapel for the funeral, I stopped to sign the guest book.  My brother stopped next to me and said "nothing at the ranch is going to change".  I nothing to say.  It left me cold.


This was two years ago this month.  I have been harassed needlessly, senselessly since then.  Not just about the ranch but also my parents trust and how it needs to be distributed and closed.


Plenty has been said to me and about me.  I felt powerless, betrayed, hurt.  My husband and kids kept loving me, insuring me that I was not a bad person, that I was being bullied. 


I couldn't see it.  Families don't do that to each other.  It is a misunderstanding.  We are all hurting and just need time to heal, talk, understand.


It got uglier as time passed. Hurtful, harmful.


I wrote my brother a email on how he has bullied me now and as children he abused me. Lied about me.  Took so many people that I love from me.  His reply "hope you feel better".


I learned he shared it with other family members and they laughed about my true, raw feelings.


I didn't sleep well. Haven't throughout all this, but I got up around 2:30 am.  I did some research on bullying and sibling abuse.  My heart fell.  Who ever wrote these articles described my life, my choices I had made, my most inner thoughts.  How did they know me?  Who are these people? Do see how I see?


That morning we had a small gathering at the mesa cemetery to commemorate an uncle who died in Iwo Jima.  A warm welcome from some cousins. A cold feeling others.


Hours later I found Tom in the front yard, buried my head in is chest crying and said "I am 53 years old and just realized the bullying will never end".


Just previous to this I was laying in bed, Thinking of how many kids have committed suicide from being bullying.  I never could understand why.  Just walk away, just get far from the bully,  Simple,
It's not. The bully is never satisfied.  They need the rush.  It ran through my mind the only option I have is death. 


The dread I felt the day of the funeral was a warning that one of my barriers is gone.  My mom passed within five months and the gates of hell were thrown wide open.


My new trial has began.