Family

Years, miles, therapy, practice, tip toes back in, run away, shame, doubt, disgust, rinse repeat.

I thought I had a handle on it. I thought I could keep the toxicity at bay and have the three of us escape unscathed. I was foolish. I let my guard down. What was the worst that could happen, I thought. Idiot. The worst did happen. And I didn’t stop it. I did stand up and shout and point and unveil the true villains. Instead my dearest boy was made the scapegoat. A child, unable to fend for himself.

I can’t stop the loop. I can’t stop the angry words, thoughts, at myself and at you. All of you. You show more compassion and care for a stranger than a member of your own family.  Did you ever really accept him as family? Try to really know him? No, there was pity. Not much love. Not much compassion. Demands, expectations, scorn. How dare you. You are vile in your judgement and contempt of a boy who only wants to be loved and accepted.  By a family especially after losing his own. You are not his family. You don’t deserve him or his love of you despite the horrible ways in which you treat him.

I try so hard not to hate, to despise you all. I am so stunned, shocked, appalled by the sheer ignorance in how harshly you would treat one another and my son. Criticisms, judgmental commentary, lack of real support or encouragement. Cutting, sarcastic, skewering.

It was as though I was watching from afar, all the jabs and redirects and deflection of insults. Is this how you talk to one another all the time?

I don’t know that I can forgive you. I cant seem to forgive myself.  I don’t know that either of us deserve forgiveness. I know I will fight like hell to never allow it to happen again. And to teach him how to handle such egregious ignorance and lack of kindness. That is a demonstration of how NOT to be in the world.  And I never want to see it again.

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