I hear you. My abuser, my older brother, is dead too. And his death, in a sick way, made his life inside of me seem more powerful. Now he seems immortal in his attacks.
And yet, he is also a wretch. A dead wretch not worth poking with a stick.
Somewhere, there must be a way to resolve this, because the war is within ME, in my psyche, in my body memories. Somewhere there must be peace.
"I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand... Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?"--Ian Curtis, Joy Division