life is an open internet..."book"

I just spent the evening learning more about my Dear Nephew...I learned a bit about the circle of friends and family, those lives I missed out on. Life is a tragedy and a triumph too. Seeing the next generation beginning lives and giving birth making families. I am so proud of them.
Having the memory disorder and the forgetfulness of faces, names , even family members. The nieces and nephews, their spouses all strangers to me. I am so ashamed of showing my face at any of the family function for I was the absent Aunt (for survival sake)I the last of 8 children, whose siblings all had, and raised families years before mine. A generation skipped while the years were spent just overcoming those first 18 years of my existence. Never knowing what is from the brain scars and what is from the stress disorder I am just left to accept life. Accept myself while never being able to even hope that those who are a lost generation to me would or could ever understand. To honor my siblings keeping my mouth shut. Children see their parents as "god" in the growing up years. The growing up off all the kids of my siblings...so many many hours , days and years of praying for these kids. I, now, left a stranger to them. Even if and when we do connect I have no idea of what the spouses name is or even most of the great nieces and nephews are. I try and will get one or two at a time. With very seldom sightings and almost always at very stressful times (gathers) they have been left near strangers to me. I look in their eyes and all I can imagine is how hurt they must be by my absence in their youth. By what they may never understand.
Tonight my heart hurts for them. All the years of life lived thinking that their Aunt could care less about them. Oh if only they could ever know how ripped to the core I was when the doctors told me the only way I would not commit suicide was to estrange myself to get out from under the plague the suffocation of dysfunction. The manipulations. Those roles each person played in the family. I had to leave. I choose to live, and yes it may seam so selfish of me.
It was so excruciating, even tried for the sake of many of them to function around the family when the kids were small. With so many secrete and so many hurts wounds anger and hate...I choose to leave and have my life. I choose rightly, but what a great cost...What a huge loss. These kids have grown and now have wonderful families. I, I am judged for other than who I am. Non of them really know me. It is so sad with all the baggage we can not even function in dialog with each other. Now when they all are suffering so hard the loss of a young man who was loved by so many.
This child who came into the world only months after my abortion (done in desperation)...Jason was born around the time that my child having lived...would have been born. This young man who my sweet sister gave life too. This once little boy who bought me "diamonds" one day when he was 6 rs old. Those earrings I wore to his wake. No one knew... no one asked if he mattered to me. One person asked me if I was alright. A young man who was a friend of his. He showed me tattoos that Jason had done on his flesh. Tats that reveled the life he lived. Choices he made.
He was the apple of my eye in my young married life. My husband and I so loved being his Aunt and Uncle. It just killed a part of me (us) when I had to become estranged. Watching his life unfold...ripped my heart out , but non of them ever knew that. Non of them even understand that I think to this day.
I had a vision of Jason coming to my door one day as a young adult...it came to pass right after i returned home with my adopted daughter. He held her. His Mother and I reconnected for a time. I was not strong enough then to keep up the relationship for she was in a real crisis of life and the stress we were each under just seemed to undermine us.
To watch as his new start was circumvented by so many pulling on him to fill their needs. He was without boundary and would do anything for anyone no matter the cost to himself. I tried many months ago to support his hope to get his own apartment. To start his "independent" life. He was stalked at the time by a young wounded girl.
Well life is a tragedy and there are times when you have to walk away to keep your own life from being one.
How very very hard that is to do...That it is to have done.