To the child who blames himself for everything tothebrotherswelost, April 7, 2024April 7, 2024 Therapist: What would you tell your 8 year-old self if he were here right now? Myself: …I don’t know…I never really thought about it… I would probably tell him that none of it was his fault. I would let him know that the pain will be temporary. …maybe that life’s a struggle but there’s still hope. Therapist: Do you believe what you’re telling me? Or are you giving me answers you think I want to hear? Myself: …I don’t know….both? …Wh…What do you think I should say? Therapist: That’s up to you to decide. You can say as little or as much as you want. ..Can you pretend for a moment that he’s sitting right next to you? Myself: …I mean… …I guess I can try… None of it is your fault. And by none of it, I mean your dad’s drinking. You never once put the beer in his hand or made him drink it all down, So there’s no need to keep blaming yourself every time he stumbles home angry and drunk. By none of it, I mean the arguments at home. He yells and pushes your mom around because of his own insecurities, Not because you’re doing anything wrong by spending all of your time with her instead of him. By none of it, I mean all the beatings he gives you. You’re an 8 year old kid for fuck’s sake. Nothing you’ve ever done can justify him hitting you with an iron cord or belt. And I know his words sometimes hurt more than his beatings. But you’re not worthless, no matter how many times he insists. And I understand why you run away and hide. Why you keep all to yourself. And why you spend so much of your time crying alone. But if I could be with you every time you fill up the bathtub with water, I would. At least to keep you company when the pain becomes unbearable. Maybe then, those thoughts of drowning yourself wouldn’t consume you. And I realize it’s easy for you to blame yourself for everything. And how hard on yourself you can be. But believe me when I say this, You truly are such a wonderful kid. I’m just sorry nobody ever took the time to tell you. Because despite of all of the bullshit you’re going through, You still won’t give up on people. That’s such an amazing gift that you carry. Please, don’t let anyone take it away from you. Because growing up for you won’t get any easier. And you’ll experience heartbreak after heartbreak. And more loss than you can imagine. So please, in the midst of all the chaos, try to be more kind to yourself. Because you’ll find that those thoughts of drowning will never leave you. And they’ll cloud your days when the guilt overwhelms you. But that’s the moment we need you the most. That’s when we need you to come out of the shadows. And we will need you to use that gift of yours to push us through. To keep our hope alive and make us believe that better days are coming. So, that we can truly see just how beautiful the world can be. And it really is beautiful. Because… For a brief moment in time, you’ll find a friend who understands. And they’ll hold your hand to guide you… And they’ll gently remind you… To just keep swimming… Even if you never learned how. Therapist: …That sounds genuine. Is that something you sincerely believe? Myself: …I…I…honestly, I don’t know. Share this:TwitterFacebookMorePrintEmailRedditTumblrPinterestWhatsAppLike this:Like Loading... Stories AnxietyBlogDailypromptDepressionLGBTLifeLoveMental HealthPersonalPoemSadnessWriting
Stories To the person full of hate October 24, 2023April 5, 2024 I hated my brother. I hated how easily he made fun of me and beat me up as a kid. I hated how stupid he was and how he was praised for barely passing classes with a “C” average. I hated how he received more attention from my parents than… Share this:TwitterFacebookMorePrintEmailRedditTumblrPinterestWhatsAppLike this:Like Loading... Read More
Stories To the person with a drunk for a dad November 29, 2023December 27, 2023 The childhood memories I have of my dad are somewhat distorted. But I do remember the vivid sounds of keys rattling outside the front door of our house almost as if someone were scrambling to break their way inside. My body would tense up and, reacting on their own, my… Share this:TwitterFacebookMorePrintEmailRedditTumblrPinterestWhatsAppLike this:Like Loading... Read More
When we become adults, we talk to children, asking them questions like “How old are you?” and hearing their little voices reply, “I’m eight.” That answer goes right into my heart because I remember when I was eight. How could anyone hit a little kid? That parent is so messed up, possibly a victim themselves. Reply