My delusional fantasy.

deathbed

I think a lot of anger at my parents has been triggered.
For years I’ve avoided thinking about my past or made excuses as to why my family treated me the way they did. I haven’t felt this enraged at them since adolescence. I guess this is good, all that anger has to come out. But what to do about it? I’m also realizing how HURT I feel by all this–that’s another thing I tried to deny or avoid thinking about. I can’t avoid it anymore, and I can’t escape the pain and the rage.
Someone posted the four stages of healing. Anger was one of those stages. But I don’t feel like I can move on by myself from this.

I still dream of a reconciliation–something like, on their deathbeds, they make amends to me and tell me how sorry they were for fucking my mind up so bad I can barely function in the world. Then let me know they are putting me back in the will. I know that’s delusional and will never happen because their souls are gone and they will always think I’m unworthy because I don’t measure up to their ridiculous, unrealistic standards, but I still think that it’s the only thing that would ever make me feel happy. At the very least I would feel vindicated.
But nothing would really change of course; the damage is already done to my psyche and has been that way for a long time.
But I still have that fantasy.
I can’t let it go.
A sense of closure would be lovely, but I don’t think I’ll even ever have that.

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2 thoughts on “My delusional fantasy.

  1. There’s a song that goes, “When I lay down and I do die, bury where she passes bye. For she turned my love right into hate and that’s why this sad tale I relate… She turned my love to hate instead and I’ll still be hating when I’m dead.” Do you think we’re the same person after death?

    I forgave my mother years ago by seeing her not as my mother but a scared girl trying her best. Then I got my transcript from the nuthouse and read what she said about me to the social worker and I got angry all over again. If there’s life after death, I wonder what she feels about dissing me beyond the grave.

    The thing is these people are beyond our reach. We can only love or hate reflections of ourselves. I hope this helps.

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