one

It’s been a year since I started this experiment. I’ve spent a few days periodically reflecting on that. I set out with an idea of some stories I wanted to tell, and I have not yet been able to touch all of them. But I have thought about them. The past few months in particular I’ve thought about my abusers. I remembered their names, or the names I knew them as. I tried looking them up out of curiosity without much success, but I believe one of them is dead. I wonder if their families ever learned what got them off.

I’ve thought about the cult a lot, and while I think it’s important to document my journey, it’s also hard to write about something that I have left behind me. Hard from the perspective of just not wanting to prioritize it.

One benefit of this experiment has been collecting my thoughts on various topics. I have found value in that.

I also like some of the pieces I’ve written, though I quickly realized the sad reality of writing under a pseudonym is that I will never be able to take credit for a piece. That is an odd feeling that has made me hesitant to publish some pieces, but I have published them anyway. I am proud of those works even though they can never be mine, or even if they are never read.