Jeffrey Epsteins suicide is helping me make sense of my brother’s.
Since last November, when he did it, I have been wondering what the connection is between my frantic processing of the past, and this final act of my brother’s. I had woken up that morning making a first time ever assertion in my mind of sexual abuse against him. I had been reading a very good book about adult survivors of childhoid sexual abuse given to me by my therapist and was ready to start looking at my relationship with my brother, which was rife with mutual abuse, including the devastating, lifelong damage from his kneeing me in the crotch. Could he havcd sensed this coming on? At any rate, his suicide was well-timed to put the kibosh on this line of inquiry of mine. He was smart like that with me.
So, out of respect, I dropped the issue; to to pick it up again, as it needed to be faced.
