Write and speak about Benjy, that is. I've brought this up on the blog before (and one or two commenters said, yes, you should, if that's what you want to do!), but it's really troubling me this morning. I had a sleepless night, just dwelling on it.
I mean, how would I feel if I found out my Mom was secretly writing about me being breastless, having Tourette's, all that stuff -- and how hard that was for her? If she used pseudonyms it would help, of course. But today when I speak at synagogue I am only changing "Benjy's" name, not mine. Most of the few hundred people there do not know us; they have never set eyes on him and probably never will. And those who DO know us know more or less about these issues.
Am I a Bad Mother?
I do it not to exploit him, to feed some unhealthy appetite -- mine or others' -- for the lurid, the painful and the sad. I do because it is therapeutic for me, and, I hope, helpful to others. I do it because I HAVE to, if I am going to survive this journey.
But that begs the question: Is this good for Ben?
I don't know. To the extent it's good for me, I think it may be good for him. I hope beyond hope it will never hurt him. But I fear if he found out it would be all over.
The last thing I want to do is betray my child. whom I love beyond measure. I feel pretty rotten this morning, I have to say.
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