A post the other day brought back a memory I must have suppressed and then a few more popped up about my siblings and started me seeing a pattern.

I am the oldest of 7, my mother was taken away to a mental institute in the late 60's because she had a "nervous breakdown" when I was almost 4 and there were 5 of us. DYFS (division of youth and family services) put one sister and I in the same home together. My youngest sister who was an infant and our 2 brothers went to separate homes. My father ended up living on the streets to be close to her. Who knows, it might have just been postpartum depression till they gave her electric shock treatments and drugged her up....she happened to be pregnant again and they took that baby right from her.

In our foster home, my sister and I would get taken into the bathroom by our oldest foster brother and made to do things to him when he was left "in charge." My sister told someone about the foster brother after we got out and he supposedly got a beaten from the stepmother and that was it. One of my brothers told us he was always locked in a bathroom at his foster home and there is probably a lot to that story that I don't know but later when we were back with our parents he ended up being "like a son" to our rich landlord and going on trips with him alone...maybe he saw he was already groomed and chose him....My youngest sister ended up running away and being found with an older man at maybe 12... When my mom was finally able to get out of there, my parents had to fight to get us each back and we didn't have money for lawyers etc. Turns out, or so they said, they never told that they took right from my mom in the hospital, anything about us while growing up and he thought his foster parents were is parents. They then guilted my parents into "leaving him be for the best". My other siblings may have had things happen but I haven't thought of anything to connect yet .

But there was something I completely forgot. My foster family started taking my sister and I to a psychologist saying we were "depressed"...I was thinking what are you talking about...but I was just a kid so I did as I was told. Now I remember the creepy guy had an accent from India or something and would give us treats like dried apricots and touch me in an uncomfortable way up close and I felt funny and he would always say its our special secret. I remember feeling his breath on me. I remember not wanting to go there....there might be more but I don't remember at the moment....maybe I was drugged. This was in NJ in the 70's. I might be a pizzagate survivor and now I keep thinking hmmmm, about everything and everyone.