Same, same, same . . . as far the pix go.
I had kept all mine sort of buried, along with any thing from back then in a big steel work box, buried in our warehouse. About three birthdays ago, while working through this stuff, I decided to "rescue" me from that big steel box.
At midnight (soon as I could) on my birthday, I was cutting the lock off, and getting everything out. By 4:00 am, I found myself with everything spread around me, sitting cross-legged on the floor, crying my eyes out.
Later I was thinking it was the worst birthday I ever gave myself. Now I am pretty glad I made it and made me out of the box.
(My experience only . . . as far as perps dying) Most I have seen have pretty miserable lives to live. Independent of them, it seems the most important thing is that we live our lives well, either through the abuse, or in spite of it.
And a Big Hi to little WillP, from little Sunshine guy.