Hi Janet. Yes, you were a pain. You were in severe pain. Your life was a hellscape starting at 11 years old when Dianne died. Mom was broken. Dad, disconnected. Mom could only do it for herself, generally.  She tried to engage me. And every time she did, I grabbed on with all my might. I had hoped you’d never see loss again. But you did. And you fought to be seen, heard, and loved. And people didn’t show up for you as they should have. They gave in to their needs too. And it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. And you got stuck.

Mom was gone. Not gone gone. Physically present, not capable. And every day you watched her not move, not speak, and not able to help you. And she would have been the only one that might’ve helped you. And you knew that.

Men took advantage of your willingness to engage in reckless behavior. Men that should have known better. Legally and morally. And you got blamed for being promiscuous.  The men had no responsibility towards me and my safety is my reputation. Your reputation. Men who sometimes were well older than you. 

You did everything you could to survive it. And you did. It’s because I’m here now. And I’m sorry. You deserved hugs. You deserved a plethora of them. You deserved kindness. And it was withheld. You deserved more assistance with knowing how to deal with the massive level of teenage hell. And because you didn’t heal, I am still trying to get there. For us both.

You are a smart person. You did what you could. What you were enabled to do. Not everyone can create art out of a fucking Campbell’s soup can (you hack).

I’m sorry you were failed by the people that loved you. Or. Were supposed to. I wish I could hold you and let you cry those tears you held all those years back, now. I wish I could have helped you navigate the horrors. I can only do it through the mind I have now.

Most importantly, I don’t think you need forgiveness. You were just trying to survive a near impossible set of circumstances that you didn’t ask for or capable of getting through. There was no crash course and there was so no social support. You were neglected and left to your own mess.

You’re not that same mess anymore though. Have you seen what your future looks like? We have a home. It’s ours. We have two dogs and they love us.

We’re loved. By Eric, his parents, his family, friends, and so much more.

You have nothing to be forgiven for. Nothing. And I hope you know that it’s okay. I have to take the ropes now. You can be assured that I’m trying to get better. For both of us.

Your train wreck began without your permission. And if people don’t love you. It’s okay.

We’re going to find a bright spot. Some day.