Memories

My uncle died of liver cancer, having been a drunk for most of his life. I got pregnant with the help of a man I hardly knew and had an abortion that left me emotionally crippled.
The news of my uncle's death, together with the shame and guilt of the abortion, brought up a number of dreams and flashbacks of the incest. I could finally remember, but I was not ready to process.
Of course, throughout my life I felt like an alien, an intruder to people's lives. I felt like a weirdo, so painfully different, yet I couldn't put my finger on what the difference between me and others really was. I was a girl, with two eyes, one nose, two arms, two legs. I had reasonable moral standards, only lying occasionally and to the purpose of self defense. I never purposely hurt anybody and yet I could never make friends. People seemed to take me either for a doormat, or an arrogant bitch. No one has ever found a redeeming quality about me, or something they could really care about. Consequently, I turned to sex, to fill the void and feel less lonely.
I could never explain these things about me, until I finally remembered. And oh, did I remember! Everything sprung upon me like a jack in the box, everywhere I would turn, every little action I would do, would trigger a new an more painful memory. At times I wished I could forget again. I wished it to stop. I remembered and relived the pain of the incest a thousand times over.