That said: TRIGGER warning. There is some stuff in here that will be weird for you if you ever experienced sexual abuse, especially within your own family.
Like I said in History 1, I stopped doing this project after about 25 “polaroids” or so. Part of the exercise (I realized after doing this sequence) was to get through this particular set of memories and be done with it. There are plenty of unfinished, very happy-memory-category polaroids, too. I should get back to them.
There’s a break of about seven years here where I finish grad school, meet my future wife, and we move to Tucson. I shared that memory with nobody that I can remember. I pretty much stuffed it down and wrote it off as just something weird and off that happened one time. I stopped communicating with Bill, though, which made him mad.
That’s right. My grandmother stopped speaking to me. Because I snubbed her son – a 50 year old man – and he whined to her about it. That broke it all loose again for me.