Dear "You"...From "Me"-Letters Unsent

Post Reply New Topic

Dear wretched mother,

why did you say I took my problems/feelings out on you when I just talked to you sounding all upset but I wasn't upset at you, yet you actually took your feelings out on me when you got annoyed at me or yelled at me for pilling something or bumping into something? I think I did it to you a few times too and I'm sorry. But I would never have complained if you complained about your problems to me sounding upset.


~Ana, because I feel like s**t using the name you gave me. Too many awkward memories.


P: all this talk about God and Jesus and how I need to find the light is NAUSEATING and HUMILIATING and most of all, DEMEANING. Just because I say a lot of mean s**t doesn't mean I say and do more s**t than you do. Just because I complain a lot and act all negative right now doesn't make me more godless than you are. How would you know anything?

Dear ___________,

Why did you shoot me down romantically? Why don't you see me as a person, rather than "the guy who lives 300 miles away"? You said that I shouldn't have to wait for you, but I was more than willing to. In fact, my fear was that you wouldn't have been willing to wait for me, and that by the time I graduated, you would have found someone else. Would you have been willing to wait for me? You said I should look for someone who can meet my needs, when you are the only one who can.

I don't want to be with anyone else, I want you and you only. Everybody else who has the same interests as me is either an atheist or an agnostic. You were the only one who was a Christian.

I really want you to assess the situation, and see me for me, and not the geographical distance between us.

Your friend,

Tim

Dear Tim,

when you have no good experiences it's always traumatic to have another bad one. You can talk to me if you want.

~Annoying Ana


Dear world,


please let me kveth and let it be known that I think everyone should ketch and have it ALL be listened to.


My dad once told me that a few months after I was born my mother lied to the court saying he didn't care about me at all so that she could have custody of me. Another time my mother was ordered by the court to get counseling but she never got it. When I asked my mother about this she said "Oh yeah, like I was gong to go to the Doulas Hospital." Everyone in Montreal knew that the Douglas Hospital was the mental hospital. I don't blame her for not want ting the stigma but why did they make her get counseling? Why was my dad telling me she should have gotten it? When he told me that I was 15 and hwe wa teling me there's no shame in just walking out the door and that my mother wanted to keep me in the house all to herself and was sickeningly smothering and overprotecting and all this other stuff he'd been telling me for years. He also said that shwe was trying to make me into this pathetic disabled kid (about her going on about my AS and how it affected me oh so much) in order to get money from the government for as long as possible. My mother of course got upset at this and called him a liar. That same day when he was telling me all this when I was 15 he also said that if my mother tried to keep me prisoner in the house I should call the Kids Help phone and eventually the courts would get involved and take me away from her and give me to him. He also said to do that if my mother tried to "bundle me off to Gaspe" (way out in the country where she has relatives) or to cll the cops or something.


Another time my mother said my dad wasn't there when I was born and when I told my dad this when I was 12 he got so mad he picked up the phone and called my mom right away and yelled at her and told her off for lying and saying he wasn't there when I was born. My mother later said that he had been there and she had never said that he hadn't been.


One of my paents is a liar and I don't know which one.


Thanks for letting me get that out.


~KMC/AF

Dear Ana,
YOU were venting about actual problems.
I, on the other hand, was just feeling sorry for myself. Big difference.

- Rachel -

It isn't your fault you feel sorry for yourself; you wouldn't if you were stimulated enough.

Last time I typed up something like this, I actually DID send it.

Dear mother,


you say you were never pressuring me to go back to school because you didn'[t want me to be miserable and/or drop out and that. But when you and my father jumped the gun that day when there was a mixup at the Capilano ollege, and thought I was tricking you and had engineered the mixup on purpose so that I wouldn't have to go to school, you said "Oh, I don't know what will become of her!" and my father sounded so f*****g upset when he said "A lifetime of welfare, I guess." f*****g hoptiy-toity lying snobs. It was your decision for me to go back, not mine. I could NOT have told you I didn't want to go back, like you said. I would have gotten stupid lectures about living a life of welfare. Or rather, I would have had to sit there listenign to you talking to each other about how hopeless I was, and I would not have done that of course; I'd have left.


You made me check out school websites. You could have just kicked me out. My father got mad when I was slow to do it and said "She doesn't want to go to school; she wants to do what she wants to do!" In an annoyed, annoying, angry way. I would rather be kicked out on the street than treated like that. Emotional abuse is often worse than physical abuse or neglect or lack of solidarity. At least you'd be leaving me alone.


Thanks for listening.

Dear arrogant ignorant mother,


remember when you said I was probably angry and miserable in kindergarten because I was odd and asociable and therefore "because I probably had trouble doing things like zipping up my jacket"?


1) I didn't have that particular problem, 2) a lot of kids do, so so what if I did, and 3) I know #2 because in a parenting magazine I was once reading it suggested putting keychains on kids' zippers so little hands could more easily get at them". This isn't an AUTISM thing, for f**k's sake, you paranoid fool. It's a kid thing. Oh yeah, and 4) I wasn't angry and miserable in kindergarten. I loved it.


Also, remember when I was 10 and you went shopping with my relatives in Gaspe while I stayed behind and I didn't really know where you were going and you came back with school clothes for me to wear in grade 5 that you picked out? And I didn't like them and didn't want to have to wear them all the time? And you made this RULE saying I could only choose what I wore if I wore a jumper or dress or skirt and blouse 3 times in a 5-day school week? You f*****g snob; I wanted to enjoy not being in a school with f*****g uniforms. Not to mention I hated the material of most blouses. I found it absolutely disgusting. I was afraid to get sweaty because sweat and school-uniform blouses or dress shirts do not f*****g mix. Luckily I never got sweaty. I didn't want to be the gross girl AGAIN. Although I do admit the clothes sort of grew on me; I liked stories about rich snobby girls.


Also, remember when you ASSSUMED I wouldn't think of a certain thing without f*****g asking me and said to Peter I wouldn't think of it or didn't think of it. He said "How do you know she didn't think of it? You never asked her!" You either just stutter naturally or realized this was true and either stuttered to try and explain yourself or stuttered because he caught you and you didn't know what to say. You always fancied me the weak talentless stupid one. You realized you couldn't stop me from doing well in school or being a good writer, so you decided to make stories of me being weak and talentless SOCIALLY.


You also told my f*****g grade 4 teacher about "the thing I did with my hands at home". What relevance is that to anything in grade 4? They just talked about how well or badly I was doing in my subjects, how I didn't pay attention and they thought I might have a hearing problem because of that and the fact that I talked loud, and s**t like that.


Then there was the time we were talking to the people at the food bank in the office section of it and the person behind the counter was questioning us because it was our first time there and I forget what we were talking about, I think about school and work and anxiety and social nxiety and that and I was asked something I remember, and I mentioned "this thing" and you thought I was gong to tell her about AS for once in my life actually admit I have AS (because that's what you always called it, "that thing" or "this thing she has") so you got this big grin on your face, but then the "thing" *I* was talking about was something else. And you looked disappointed and later worked my AS into the conversation. It IS true that I had this inferior, anxious, maybe even mentally challenged look on my face because I was so anxious around the food bank lady and talking to her (not just her, everyone), and she said don't worry, her son or nephew or someone had special needs and worked at Dairy Queen, I'd find something, but she was nice, she didn't treat me like I was stupid or severely socially ret*d before or after that comment.


Thanks again for listening.

Dear Jessica,

I wish you knew me better. I know I've done some selfish things by making promises and then breaking them. Please try to understand how hard it is with the condition I have. I don't know why I am the way I am. It's never been easy to have ppl judge me right off the bat and not know the real me. I've struggled with this half my life and it's been painful. I hate being alone but I also hate the fact of having to try and find ways to fit in with you people's standards. I hope tommorow, when I see you, I can cope with this.

Your cold and distant friend

Alice

Dear anyone who will listen,


I love her so much sometimes and hate her so much other times.


I want to see the good in her and now panic or think I'm going to get censored.


I also want to stop feeling like s**t all the time. I want to be happy but just telling me to "Be happy, then" or "buck up and grow up" or "look ath the bright side"-- one comment from one person isn't going to do it. One classic, overused, overdone, overcooked pathetic little pep talk isn't going to do it.


Thanks for giving a rat's ass about me.

Dear anyone who will listen:

Sometimes I feel like nobody here on WP listens to me. It's like everyone tries to ignore me. Why? I'm just a man who has had many experiences, especially with the past year and a half and what my family has gone through. If only I could relate to you guys more, but I'm only high-functioning and I don't have depression. If any of you really do listen and care about what I say, please let me know!

Yoshie

Dear Yoshie,

you can talk to me if you want. You could be my killer but what the hell, it's not like I'm meeting you in a dark alley.

If you have problems and they bother you perhaps you do have depression. Forgive me for saying that. Or don't, if you don't want to.

Your friend,

Ana

Dear mother,


I'm sorry for being undiplomatic. I really am. The reason why I posted all this was because I want to have a relationship with you but I can't if you don't understand all this stuff.

Dear heat wave,
GO AWAY!!
Yours sincerely,
Me (and probably the whole of Australia).