It’s been a long time.
I think it’s been 7 years since I last spoke to you, and still, I have nothing to say. Who knows where I’d be if I didn’t leave. If I never left the toxic environment of your mental illness. You refused to help yourself, not out of fear, but out of anger towards my father. You wanted to do anything to hurt him because you felt like he hurt you. But in the end, you hurt me.
Although I have my own mental health struggles today, I would never treat my family and friends the way you treated us. You’re spiteful and disrespectful. You can never own up to anything, and in the end, you lost everything. Yet, you still don’t understand why. People try to rebuild relationships with you, but you always end up hitting them below the belt, reminding everyone you have not changed one ounce.
I see you within myself everyday and I hate it. I will never let myself become someone so hateful. I’m crying writing this because you’ve caused so much pain. I think of you often, but not out of love or nostalgia. I think of you out of fear. I don’t have a mother and even when you were still in my life, you weren’t my mother. You were my controller.
I resent you. Everyday I try to let it go and own up to my issues. I have a great example of who not to become, even though it’d be significantly easier to allow myself to follow your example.
I wish it was different, but it isn’t.