Grieving my parents who are still alive, from anger to depression.

This is might just be me screaming into a void, but this is hitting a lot more than usual tonight. The child inside of me is screaming and crying wishing for someone to hear her.

The “what could have been” fucks me up so much. I never stop thinking about what my life could have been if I had present and involved parents that cared.

I wish my parents were able to feel empathy, and made us feel loved. I wish my parents would have at least TRIED to foster a happy and healthy environment for my brother and I. I wish we didn’t live in poverty as children so my parents were actually home. I wish my parents could have at least tried to shield us from the abuse and the separate affairs they were having. I wish there was a conversation that my dad was leaving, and that I didn’t just wake up one day and he wasn’t there anymore.

I wish my mother had the ability to comfort me when I needed it, not shamed me or punished me for having human emotions. I wish I didn’t have to feel pressured to act like an adult at the age of 13. I wish my body wasn’t repulsed when she tries to interact with me as an adult.

I wish my dad would have been present to protect me from an abusive relationship. I wish he could have been a man that I could have looked up to. I wish he would be the man to walk me to the man I marry, but he doesn’t deserve that right. I wish he could have protected me when I was a little girl. He hasn’t told me he’s loved me in years. He has no interest in meeting my partner. He has no interest in knowing who I am or what I think about anything. Neither does my mom.

Coming out of denial as an adult, this level of betrayal from my own parents is honestly more than I can bear. I get so consumed about it and I feel like the people around me besides my therapist don’t understand, so I honestly just keep it to myself because I don’t want to depress them as well.

I’m pretty sure I’m in the depression phase of my grieving process now but damn, it’s so hard.