to the ones that raised me (TW: SA/PA)

[asdis]

Hi, I know we don't talk much. You reach out, I know, I know. I don't respond. You're wondering why I'm so distant? It took you awhile to notice. No, I know. I've been distant for ten years. Twelve. Stop looking back, you'll only hurt yourself. I've been distant for most of my life. You have no idea why? Really?

You don't, and have never, listened. Every time you ignore my responses because they don't say exactly what you want, you're not listening. Every time you ask me the same question on repeat for days, you don't listen. Every time you tell me that you're going to visit, you're not listening to me. I know, I was good at faking being close until I knew that what you were doing to me was abuse.

I know, you treated me better than your parents treated you. I don't really believe that, unless your parents also sexually abused and trafficked you. Yeah, I know he hit you. You hit me too. Don't you remember telling me that you stopped once I got good at talking? But you didn't stop, not really. You may not have left many marks, but you threw me. You swung me around. You gave me concussions. You abused me, then abused me again as punishment any time you "caught" someone else abusing me. I wonder if you ever abused me after your dad did, the memories are too fragmented to put together on my own. Do you really think that sexual and emotional abuse is better than physical?

You took me to the dentist, not the doctor. Remember telling me that the doctor hated me? Remember forcing me to eat foods that I'm legitimately allergic to? Remember using Him to get my inhaler refills instead of taking me in? Remember when my little sister's dermatologist was begging you to make an appointment for me because my eczema was so bad that it was bloody? I could go on. You also lost every record of mine, all my medical records, my birth certificate, my social security card.. Remember we had to reach out to all my past schools to get my vaccination records for college? And I was still missing some. I had to get them at the college clinic because you never made me the appointment. We knew I needed my wisdom teeth out for five years before you let me get them removed, it wasn't a money issue like you said. I understand money enough now to know that you were more content to spend it elsewhere than you were to help me in any way.

I know, I know. You got me therapy. I don't see it that way though. You let me go to therapy because it was court mandated after I was released from my court mandated inpatient stay. That you fought, quite hard, to not let me go to. I remember you fighting with CPS. The glass walls of the ICU don't hide much sound at all. I know you were trying to avoid any further action than the ICU stay. I remember how scared you sounded when CPS said they could discharge me home so long as CPS could make home visits. The way you switched up on that, from demanding to take me straight home to "no, no we just can't afford inpatient", as if you weren't trying to hide anything. I'm still upset with you for fighting with them. They never finished their interview with me. I didn't have all the words, but I had enough that I thought telling them would change something. But there you were, glaring at us from outside the room. We kept getting choked up, we asked them if they could come back again because we needed to tell them something. But you had barged in, and they never came back. And I got sent to that hellhole of a hospital. No children's ward should be run by religion a cult.

No, I won't give it to you that you kept me in therapy past the court mandate. All that did for me was give me the drive to learn more about myself and figure out where everything went so wrong on my own. Being a minor living in an abusive household, I knew better than to share too much with my therapist. I knew she was a mandated reporter, and I knew that anything I reported to her, she would first report to you. And you two would deny it. I knew that the "really bad things", the abuse I couldn't put into words, had been over by your hands for long enough that I would only end up getting hurt worse.

Speaking of, how dare you build us such a perfect life from the outside? How dare you put so much effort into appearances, into being a "model citizen"? See, this is why I have a hard time believing anything you say to me. Because how could you not know what you were doing to me? How could you not know that routinely abusing your child would turn me into this? How could you not know that dropping the entire emotional burden of a six person household on a THREE YEAR OLD would break them? How could you not know that abusing me and then punishing me for being abused, gaslighting me for decades about every little tiny thing, how could you not know? How could you punish me for doing what you told me to? I know you don't remember. Maybe you do, somewhere deep in the back of your mind. But you don't, and I know you don't because if you did you would leave me the    alone.

I know, you guys pay for almost everything I have and do. You always have. I know that. But that's not enough. As much as I wish I could keep taking your money and talking to/visiting you until I'm stable on my own, that will never be the case. I am disabled. Mentally and physically. I know you want compensation from me because I'm taking your money. But I'll never be stable on my own, and I will never be able to talk to or visit you in a way that satisfies you. You keep telling me that you're here now, that you'll help me get anything I need to live a fulfilling life. But how am I supposed to believe that? How am I supposed to believe that now, at nearly 24, you care about my physical and mental wellbeing enough to foot the bills for them? That you want me to eat, and that you want me to eat food that's safe for me? That you want me to have a place to live even if I can't work? None of those sentiments from you two existed towards me until I moved cities without telling you. You didn't even recognize me as my own person until I was 21! And that was only because I told you I was moving out for good after the last time you kicked me out. So yes, you fund my life still. But now we're both miserable with the situation, and you can't take it out on me without my fiance joining in on my side. And I can't take it out on you without losing my car and my house, so I guess we're even now.

I know this is long. I know it's all over the place. I have more to say but the more I type, the faster the thoughts put themselves together and my fingers just can't keep up. You built me such a perfect life from the outside, but the only thing inside was a twisted, distorted, contorted life so full of contradictions that I have spent the majority of it trying to convince myself that I even exist. So yes, I'm distant, but my distance from you should be much less impactful on your psyche than the distance you've created between yourselves and me has been on mine.

p.s. - there will be more

[asdis]

What do mean by "here now"? Is that you admitting to failing me as a child? I know you won't, you can't, but is it? I hope you know I notice all your little slip-ups. And as I heal, I remember old slip-ups and they make sense now.

Do remember, when I was home from college because covid shut everything down, that talk I had with you? When I told you about the abuse I experienced at the hands of other children? When I told you I remembered multiple adults, including you and your dad, catching it happening? You told me you stopped it then, that you made sure the other kids were punished that time you caught it happening in the playhouse. That one incident? Yeah, you stopped that one. But it kept happening. And you punished me after you stopped it. "How dare you let them play with you that way?" and "You're not supposed to do that with others" have been burned into my brain since that day. You told on yourself then. And I remember it now, even if you deny it. Did the schools and police really never contact you about what happened to me there? I know they blamed me, but did you, too? Do you? Because it feels like you blame me. And what did you mean when you said "My dad never sexually abused you, right? If he did I'll kick him out right now"? I told you no back then, that he was only ever mentally and physically abusive. But you seemed so unsure, so on edge with the idea of him staying in the house. I'm not there anymore, and he doesn't live with you guys anymore.

But you also covered for Her. You told me I was remembering wrong, that she had always taken me to the doctor and always listened and helped me with personal issues. Then when I laid out the timelines, reminded you of all the times you two had pushed pills on me, had forced me to eat food that hurt me, had starved me, had put off taking me to the doctor until I was housebound.. It goes on. It took five years for you guys to get my wisdom teeth removed. It was a hastily made appointment, you were trying to make sure I had the surgery before I turned 18. By the time I got them removed, there was a 50% chance of jaw paralyzation due to how tightly the roots had grown around the nerve.

You told me, in tears, that you were sorry.. for being a * parent. Then you put the whole burden on me, you made me comfort you and hug you and had absolutely no care about how uncomfortable and scared I was of you touching me. No care about how much it hurt me to tell you that it was okay, that you hadn't failed, because you kept blaming yourself and guilt-tripping me. The one and only thing I will give you is that you told Her about what the neighbor did, and that the you made her cut that whole family out of Her life because they had hidden it for so long.

Do you remember when you went through all my things and forced me to come out to you? Or the second time? Or the third? Or the time you simply found out I supported trans people? Do you remember threatening me with conversion therapy? Do you remember threatening to put me in an asylum for no other reason than saying LGBT people are people? Do you remember the last time I asked you about this? You denied it. All of it. Do you remember telling me that I couldn't be nonbinary because "what will all our friends/family think"? That you couldn't call me anything other than your she/her daughter? I have come out to you against my will a minimum of three times in my life. I have taught you language, I have taught you tolerance; you credit all of that to your friends and personal growth. And yet, you can respect any LGBT person you meet as long as they aren't me.

Do you remember all the times you went through my things and found people grooming me? Do you remember all time times you encouraged my eating disorder? All the times you bought me clothes and then ruthlessly bullied me for wearing them? Do you remember buying me a literal dog collar instead of a choker for Halloween? Because your reasoning was that chokers were for prostitutes, they were inappropriate, and that a dog collar was much better and "fitting" for 8 year old me.

I remember. I remember it all and more. And I will keep writing these questions to you until I have so much that you have no choice but to acknowledge it. Because one day I will make you remember, and you will understand why I am distant, and you will respect that.