A sense of betrayal.

I waited a few days before writing this, knowing that if I wrote it in the depth of my churning shock I would have likely written something unforgivable.

Rhiannon is one of mine, my eldest. We often do not agree and her head-strong personality has caused more than one explosive battle-of-wills. Nonetheless I do care for her, and her well-being is my joy. However, two I trusted (as much as I trust another) made grievous errors in judgement, and Rhiannon was hurt by their acts. For the privacy of all involved, I will not divulge details, however upon finding out what occured I found it difficult to contain myself. I felt conspired against, and I was torn between my duty to her in her safety, and my promise to her in not avenging the act.

This escalated to a completely awkward situation reeking of guilt, suspicion, shame and humiliation.As mush as I tried to rectify it, there seemed to be something even worse brought forth: I was forced to admit somethign to myself, and forced to acknowledge a new truth about Rhiannon that she had kept within her for years. I am not certain what to do about either, yet. I only know that I am finding myself increasingly comforted by indulgences of years past, rather than the more healthy coping mechanisms I have since acquired. On one hand, it is unacceptable. On the other, it is absolutely necessary.

We are unwell.