Hey there,
I had a really helpful conversation with my uncle the other day.
He spoke about struggling with anxiety due to the abuse he faced during his childhood. His father beat him (as well as other things) until he was a sophomore. He went to therapy for it for a while, continuing through it mainly because by the time he got to high school, his anxiety got so bad that he developed anxiety attacks. They were so severe that he couldn't eat or work.
The thing that ended up working for him - and stopping the anxiety almost immediately - was finally forgiving his father for everything that he did.
The reality was that his father witnessed death and destruction during World War II. While reflecting on this, my uncle also told stories of people in his community who shared stories about their fathers: how they were tasked with executing German POWs when they couldn't afford to keep them alive anymore while they were stationed in France.
In this context, parents' behavior toward their children seemed almost expected, as they had witnessed - and, in some cases, been the bearers of - so much evil.
I figured that I now want to give forgiveness a shot, too.
I went to therapy for a few months after the events of last May and my breakup with my long-time girlfriend. I was without a job at the same time. As a result, I myself developed incredibly bad anxiety. I created some unhealthy coping mechanisms (substance addiction was a new one for me and has a sneaky way of overstaying its welcome). It was the most brutal period of my life, and I still feel the reverberations of it in several ways.
Therapy ended up not being as helpful as I had anticipated. I found it useful for introspection, but that is not something I necessarily have much trouble with. Therapists rarely hold you accountable to the degree they should, so it is easy for it to seem like a waste of time.
So, I took to "waiting it out" as my main tactic. Although it has kind of worked up until now - I love the job I have now, I have a great support network, and I have many reasons to be happy - I am still not quite going to the source. There are still signs of weakness - signs that there are hot coals inside me that are still burning - and burning me as a result. I am still angry over what happened in May (and leading up to it) and feel trapped by my feelings toward it.
So, to handle my anxiety and lessen my anger, I wanted to say that I forgive you.
I've spent a long time trying to come to terms with what you did and put it into the context of how I grew up, the values you instilled in me, and the decisions you made that were best for me. And while I have a lot of complex thoughts on it, the only conclusion I can draw is that I underestimated the pain and sadness you were in due to your own mind. Because nobody in the right headspace could have done what you did, isolate the people you isolated.
I say this, yet life without you, or at arm's length, doesn't feel right. It shouldn't need to be that way. It makes me sad that I don't think we'll have the same relationship you and your mom had when we get older. I won't get to laugh, cry, or learn from you the same way. Even more simply, I won't get to show my grandkids timeless family heirlooms and photographs that were lost due to what happened.
And that is not your fault.
Most of the grief I feel is deep within me and will likely be processed in due time. Much of it will come out when I have my own kids. Although in the beginning it was incredibly challenging, I grew to feel more like I owe it to myself and those closest to me to continue and make that one of my life's biggest goals.
I can't say that I miss you in the usual way. I do, however, grieve for how things were. Before things got complex, you were overwhelmed by your mind. I am so glad you are in a better place now where you can worry less, work on yourself, and, to some extent, be yourself, even if I do not understand lots of it.
I want to find ways to keep you in the loop, and I hope you do, too. Perhaps we can get closer in the following years and surprise ourselves with what we've learned. Although our connection is weak, and I grieve what it used to be, it is not one I want to give up altogether.
While I still have plenty of thoughts on this, I find peace knowing you are okay. I think and hope a lot of good will come from this, as I believe things tend to lead to their opposites. This experience will teach us a lot in our ways.
I know you're out there. Know that I love you, and know this is not your fault.
Until we see each other again, in whatever way that may be.
Your son,
Mason