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greenstormOh mom, I love you so much. You're not perfect by any means, but it is so not fair that you need to go through this. I realise your children are the strongest hooks that could be sunk into you, and the combination of having your children and your money taken is not something you can just turn your back on, or ignore, but I don't know how you do it. I am shredded into emotional ribbons just knowing what's going on, and when I can I just don't think about it. It's much more present in your life and much more inescapable. I know you're hurting. I can't do a damn fucking thing for you to make it better. I can't even bend enough to be a shoulder for you to cry on really; I can listen, but I can't take that emotional weight. I just flail helplessly on the sidelines.
Dealing with this situation-- with dad and the boys and the ongoing stuff, even more than the situation growing up --is the hardest thing in my life by orders of magnitude. Breakups, joblessness, money things, death, depression, isolation, social alienation, environmental brutality, smashed optimism, overturned ideals, those are all hard to take but they're my life and I have some power there. Here I am helpless; I look away as I can but I can't close my heart to you and the boys however much I try to distance myself.
And I love you all so much, and it is terrible when someone you love hurts. And some days it seems like everyone I know is hurting terribly.
I don't know what to say to this. I remember the one phone message years ago that dad left, I remember listening to it and out of desperation letting Kyle listen to it because there was no one else in that huge echoing house with me and we all know how that went. I want to tell people about it but no one understands that I am not trying to communicate that I want sympathy or understanding -- I never can nor would have that from anyone on this, no one should understand that people can do this to each other because people shouldn't do this to each other. I want to tell people about it because I want them to know why I believe in evil. This is as evil as the complete desecration of any other beautiful thing and until your own beautiful thing has been willfully desecrated it's hard to believe that it could happen and hard to see it in anything else-- we see misplaced intentions, we see all sorts of things, we make excuses, and we don't look.
Then our own beautiful thing is gone.
I'm just sorry. I really hope the end to this comes soon. I will pray for it; I always have prayed, never sure who to.
I need to go to bed and stop writing. I love you.
Dealing with this situation-- with dad and the boys and the ongoing stuff, even more than the situation growing up --is the hardest thing in my life by orders of magnitude. Breakups, joblessness, money things, death, depression, isolation, social alienation, environmental brutality, smashed optimism, overturned ideals, those are all hard to take but they're my life and I have some power there. Here I am helpless; I look away as I can but I can't close my heart to you and the boys however much I try to distance myself.
And I love you all so much, and it is terrible when someone you love hurts. And some days it seems like everyone I know is hurting terribly.
I don't know what to say to this. I remember the one phone message years ago that dad left, I remember listening to it and out of desperation letting Kyle listen to it because there was no one else in that huge echoing house with me and we all know how that went. I want to tell people about it but no one understands that I am not trying to communicate that I want sympathy or understanding -- I never can nor would have that from anyone on this, no one should understand that people can do this to each other because people shouldn't do this to each other. I want to tell people about it because I want them to know why I believe in evil. This is as evil as the complete desecration of any other beautiful thing and until your own beautiful thing has been willfully desecrated it's hard to believe that it could happen and hard to see it in anything else-- we see misplaced intentions, we see all sorts of things, we make excuses, and we don't look.
Then our own beautiful thing is gone.
I'm just sorry. I really hope the end to this comes soon. I will pray for it; I always have prayed, never sure who to.
I need to go to bed and stop writing. I love you.
