What am I, five?!

My mum has a new man in her life. After my dad left there were a couple of boyfriends and then my wonderful step dad. They were like 20 year olds in love for the first time. She was blissfully happy and he made her that way. I saw a side of her I'd never seen before.

Then he died of a heart attack.

Her life was shattered, her heart broken. Part of her died when he left this earth.

That was over two years ago now and it has not been an easy road. She had my little brother move out, and she was alone for the first time. I worried about her living life without someone. I never thought, though, that she would actually find someone new.

And my feelings have left a bitter taste in my mouth. I know who he is and I believe him to be a lovely man. However when I hear his name mentioned, when mum tells me she's done this with him, or that with him, or is going away with him I feel sad and anxious. I was kept in the dark about it for a little bit I believe, but not intentionally, though when mum said she was spending time with him, his name keeps popping up. I am genuinely happy for her. The fact she has someone to spend time with again, to look out for her and give her comfort is wonderful.

But I cannot help but feel like stamping my foot, pouting my lip and squealing "What about Bill!"

One thing is for certain... I'd never say this to her face, simply because she is old enough to make her own decisions and be happy with them....

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I have spent the last 15 years hiding the truth from people. It was my secret to hide because it did not concern others (it did, but that's not the point!). Anyways, my sister is going through a lot of healing which I am so grateful for. It is time for her. However the weight of all of this is affecting everyone back home. They are dealing with it all together because it is affecting their lives now. I have done my healing for the most part, but now they all have to go through it. The thing is, I wish that it did not have to come out the way it is - to my dad, for instance. Everyone is insisting that for them to heal, he has to know. Everyone, except me. I have spent 15 years determined that he would never find out. But apparently he will by the end of the month.

I feel very dettached from all that is going on. I feel as though people don't care as much about me having gone through it, as they do about my little sister (who will read this and feel it is part of her fault this going on - but understand sis, these are my ramblings, not a reflection on what is happening to you!). Why, when I told my mum about this in 1999, was her response "Well, just pick yourself up and get over it." Not exactly the support I was looking for at the time. I was suicidal, at breaking point, very alone and no one was really interested in listening to me.

I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders. I could not share any of this because I was scared my telling would send someone to jail, either the man who did it, or my father for killing him. No wonder my mouth stayed fairly zipped.

On Friday there was a wake for a man who was known by all involved in this story. Everyone was there (excluding me and my father). Secrets were told in confidence under the shadowy cloak of red wine and in ear-shot of people it should not have been. The proverbial cat has gotten out of the bag.

It's almost as though I am not even involved in any of this. That this is not happening in my life. It is happening in another part of the world to other people and I am just a bystander. At least, this is how it feels... The thing is, I am the one who has never forgotten, I am the one who has spent all this time hiding the truth for the good of all, and I am the one who is not having a say in any of the decisions now being made.

And now, I just don't know what I am supposed to think/feel/do.