I have tried to discuss this at various times with various family members, but no one wants to hear it. I have mentioned the “everything is all right” conversational guidelines imposed by my family. It does not seem to be optional- My attempts to break this rule were met universally with staunch resistance. So I figured… if I cannot tell anyone- I will tell everyone. I have to do something with the story- it appears I have two choices: keep it inside and let it eat my guts out, or let it out so perhaps it will become harmless. To me in any event. I fear it is going to be disjointed and fragmental. I tried writing it down in book form but could not do it without being blocked by my horrible inadequacy as a writer. As a different aspect or memory surfaces I try to log in and record it. The story spans many years.