My mom's on a plane now, flying toward the cult survivors seminar hosted by ICSA. I'm crazy jealous. I want her to pay to fix my head; after all, she let me people break me. She can afford to go to therapy and get medication (although she doesn't need it) and even fly out to Denver for a healing week. Not me though. The kid she raised in a cult? I get to stay broken. Even with all her growth in the last few years, I am still subhuman in her eyes and it sucks. I don't usually cry on the blog, so I'm gonna go away now. Bye.