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

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I honestly don't know what to say. I'm speechless. I don't know what to do either. I can't believe any of you did this. And I don't know what I'm doing to do now. I keep randomly bursting into tears at random moments.

I don't really think I deserve this. It feels like to much. But I know if I send it back it's either going to offend all of you or turn into a virtual game of ping pong.There's so much, from all of you separately. I still don't even know what to do with his car, it's still sitting in our garage, perfectly maintained although I never drive it except for that.

You also have no idea of the timing either. Yesterday I was seriously ready to say f*ck it all. Instead, I'm going to deal with it as well as I can, cut contact, and move house.

I guess it's time to seriously start thinking.

- edit -

Dear R,

I should be seeing you this evening...and am happy about that. Seeing you is a great start to my week. Maybe we will get the chance to talk one on one tonight.

There is something that I need to apologize to you about. A few years ago during the "pen incident".... I felt a big connection grow between the two of us. At the same time... I thought you were loosely using humor by saying you had autism. I mean...it came out in such a way that a person who has a tidy house might say... "I have OCD."

You just seem so relatable and nice that it didn't even cross my mind that you were opening up about something real to me. I'm sorry that it took me so long to see that you were being real about everything. Thank you for trusting me and sharing that piece of you with me. Know what? Slowly seeing your tics ands stimming - it only makes me love you even more.

Yours truly,
J

R,

It's over, yeah...it's over, before it could even begin. Tired of your games. Need something good and much more simple than this. Please go find someone else to get your rocks off too...if you haven't already. I can't do this anymore.

J

Dear classmate,

I heard about what you said about me from one of my best friends. Frankly, I want you to die and suffer in f*****g school, you piece of s**t of a human being. You are a freak and this makes me feel better. You have no f*****g right to call me or my friend or anyone like s**t you stupid cocksucker. What the f**k is wrong with you? You pulled this BS with a teacher last year and you got caught and now that I think about it, it makes me feel good. Also, you are a bully. A passive one but one day, I want you to go too far in bullying so that you get caught and expelled from this school. If the law didn't exist, you would be dead by now by someone dragging you out to the worst parts of the city and leaving you there to die or worse. I f*****g hate you now and I will still be that "annoying b***h" who asks "too many dumb questions" for my own good.

Parasol.

Dear Mom and Dad,

And now, I have to fight the temptation to put the boy up on a martyr's pedestal and kiss his little ass to make up for the things I did.

Because that's just going to screw him up more.

He broke a glass trying to get himself some milk last night. He had a massive panic attack over the broken glass. He was shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating-- it was pretty darn pathetic.

Over a broken $12-for-a-pack-of-16 Anchor-Hocking glass from WalMart. Really.

No-- not over a glass. Over the fact that the glass shattering startled him. Over the fact that he thought, all in a cluster-bomb, about what could have happened. Over the fact that his instinctive response was to react in terror of what he thought was going to happen to him-- and what he instinctively thought of himself-- for making the mistake that broke the damn glass in the first place.

A broken glass should not be the mental equivalent of the bombing of Dresden.

But-- I'm proud of us. All of us. I did not scream at the boy-- I did not even think I should. I hugged my hysterical child. I got him calmed down. I made sure he was not hurt. And then we went in the kitchen and cleaned the glass off the counter. And then I reassured the boy, again, that we were not going to have screaming fits over honest mistakes in this house any more. And then we talked about what he should have done instead. We reviewed "Ask for help, or get a stool and get a plastic cup" about a dozen times.

Do I think the boy has broken his last glass?? Probably not-- that's why I buy glasses that cost less than a dollar apiece, and are made in Ohio by unionized workers. Hey-- there's two more kids behind him-- maybe I should buy stock in Anchor-Hocking.

I'm proud of us today. We're getting back to, "s**t happens, and we deal with it." A broken glass shouldn't be the equivalent of the bombing of Dresden...

...but it can be the beginning of cleaning up the mess and healing from the war. He's still little. I think we can clean up the mess and he'll be OK. Me-- well, maybe. I'm 35, not six. There have been a lot more years of getting my nose rubbed in s**t. It's complicated when you're grown up. So-- maybe.

I'm looking forward to Christmas, Mom. But I am NOT going to scream at the kid for being imperfect, and I am NOT going to keep every minute of his day so tightly managed that he never has the chance to put a foot wrong in the first place. I'm probably also NOT going to tolerate it if you choose to give me hell for not doing those things.

One way or the other, I love you.

XO,
The b***h Your Son Married

Dear Mss. Cornwall and Williams, et al:

The medication you were so stridently urging me to take, religiously, and to take more of WAS NOT AN ANTIDEPRESSANT.

Risperidone IS NOT AN ANTIDEPRESSANT. Risperidone IS NOT A MOOD STABILIZER. Anyone who chooses to treat it as either of those things SHOULD GET OUT OF THE MENTAL HEALTH CARE FIELD.

Please Google "autistic catatonia," "medication induced psychosis," and "interactions between celexa and risperidone in patients with high-functioning autism." The research was not obscure, and it was almost half a decade old.

I feel sort of bad saying this, but I hope you lose your ass in that disability fraud investigation I'm pretty sure you are wrapped up in. I realize it wasn't your fault-- Mr. Conn twisted a lot of peoples' arms so he could line his pockets litigating disability rejections that should never have been disability applications in the first place. But YOU WERE IN THE BUSINESS OF MENTAL HEALTH CARE. That means that PROTECTING YOUR CLIENTS WAS YOUR FIRST JOB. Not covering your ass. Not pacifying some corrupt lawyer.

YOU should have blown the whistle. YOU, or someone like you. NOT a couple of smart claims processors down in Huntington.

I was lucky. So many times over. I had educated people around me. I was too debilitated by the risperidone to fill the prescription for Celexa. When I finally reached the point that I tried to kill myself, I was in Pittsburgh. I landed in a good place with knowledgeable people. I got out alive.

I was lucky. How many people with a high school education and very limited resources are now living shattered, artificially limited lives?? How many kids with uneducated parents with very limited resources may or may not have a chance at all??

I really believe you had good intentions. It wasn't (entirely) your fault. In the end, I was the excessively complaint fool who chose to reframe her perception in such a way as to believe that you were doing the right thing.

On THAT note...

...thank you very much for the C-PTSD.

It makes Asperger's look like a walk in the park.

All the Best,

The Woman You Treated For ASD and Depression in 2011. Az

Dear Ms. Eye,

I showed up in your ER on Election Day 2010 pregnant, disheveled, exhausted, dehydrated, extremely dizzy, anorexic (in the sense of being physically unable to eat, not in the sense of "anorexia nervosa") and on the point of losing consciousness. I was trailing three children; I had been driving around for FOUR HOURS trying to find a sitter for them before I showed up in your ER.

I could not do anything else. I had looked everywhere, turned over every stone, and my last choice was 1) Go to the ER with the kids, 2) Leave the kids home alone and go to the ER, or 3) Go home with the kids, lock the door, and hope I landed on the "get better" side of "get better or die."

You played with my kids. You gave me apple juice and crackers and IV electrolytes. Thank you for that.

And then, without considering the situation in which I found myself, you judged me as insane and unfit for having a panic attack in a public place.

When I tried to explain, you judged me as incompetent and unfit upon learning that I might have Asperger's. Your next question was, and I quote, "Do the other people in your family have Asperger Syndrome too??" TOTALLY, UTTERLY, AND COMPLETELY INAPPRORIATE, my dear.

You tried to have CPS come take my kids. You only backed down after I called my husband and he, according to his version of events, threatened to have your job if it went any farther. After that, you contented yourself with demanding that I call CPS and turn myself in, first thing in the morning.

I want you to know that:

1) I was 110% right about what would happen if I left my stepmother in her sister's care. We haven't seen each other since April of 2011, and most likely will not see each other again in this life. Was that panic attack REALLY unjustified and unreasonable, dear??

2) I lost the baby I was carrying. I believe he died from poisoning from a partial bowel blockage that was what had me in your ER so nauseous that I was unable to eat, drink, sleep, or keep anything down. I can't prove that-- it is extremely difficult to ascertain the cause of death of a 12-week-old fetus, and it could have been anything. But that is what I believe.

He might be alive today if you had been able to look past my sweatpants, my lack of makeup, and my emotional distress to treat the medical problem I came to you for help with.

Then again, if he were, I would have three kids four years apart, and my beautiful Abigayle would never have been conceived.

Que sera, sera.

3) Since that day in your ER, I have developed agoraphobia, severe depression, and what is probably complex post-traumatic stress disorder. I have spent a week in the hospital, a month in intensive therapy, and hundreds of hours in weekly therapy trying to learn that it is not foolish to ask for help, that it is safe to leave my home, and that I am a capable and worthwhile person despite my so-called "devastating disease."

You don't get all the credit for that-- you are not the only ill-informed idiot in the medical field. I met people in the mental health field who were at least as ignorant as you were, did at least as much damage, and had less excuse.

4) I COULD have crucified you for what you did to me in the ER the night of Election Day, 2010. Maybe I SHOULD have-- but I honestly believe that you had good intentions.

Please educate yourself about Asperger's Syndrome-- and this time, NOT from talk shows and pamphlets produced and disseminated by Autism Speaks. If you are not going to educate yourself, then at least admit that you are uneducated and refrain from making judgments and assumptions.

Speaking of devastating and disabling conditions...

Thanks for the C-PTSD. It's GREAT. (By the way-- in addition to being capable of living independently and capable of caring for others, including children; and in addition to being capable of caring about other people and not being sociopaths, persons with Asperger's Syndrome can, and do, employ SARCASM. I am not, in fact, actually grateful for the C-PTSD.)

Sincerely,

The Visibly Distraught Mom in the Sweatpants

Dear R,

You came into my life and made me laugh at first. For you it was love at first sight, for me it took a bit longer. You didn't hold back, you followed me across the world and swept me off my feet. Then all at once I became yours. Though we had to spend a lot of time apart for work, I wanted to be with you night and day for three years. Every little chat we had about our future made me smile, planning our wedding, picking out our kids' names, where we would live...
...now 4 months later I am still reeling from what has happened.

It's not like me. I never let someone get this close to me before, and now I've paid the price.

I feel stupid, for not being able to tell when I am being cheated on, when I am being lied to, and when I am just being told what I want to hear. I guess I was nothing to you all along, just a notch in your belt. I hate you... and yet, all I can think about is how much I loved being with you. Counting shooting stars while lying on our backs in the icy snow, teaching me how to throw a football on a fall afternoon, holding hands on a long car trip.

I can't wait to wake up and be me again, I want to go back to the way I was before I thought I could get married and have a family. I want to go back to being like I used to be... maybe that way what I have left will seem less pitiful.

-F

Dear Cousin C,

I'm going to be straight; I am not looking forward to your visit. You seem to have a more successful life than I do. You live in South Carolina, have a wonderful husband, a successful job, and a child on the way. FOR F***'S SAKE, WHY CAN'T I HAVE YOUR LIFE INSTEAD OF THE ONE I HAVE NOW!?

-Me

Can't believe I'm posting another one of these. I really need to stop writing them. Although there is the chance that this one will actively contradict it's purpose yet at the same time serve it. And if you managed to figure out that twisted piece of logic then well done.

So... The deal is... ummm, that thing we don't talk about? It's getting worse. To the point I freak out about the mind reading thing occasionally. I don't get these things. In fact I never have to deal with them. Like ever. I finally understand why you tried to leave lol - it's f*cking tempting!

So with much rambling that is dropping hints that are as yet still ambiguous, I guess I'm trying to say that I have a crush. Not the play kind that I joke about either. The serious kind. I got it bad (that does not mean you can tease me with bad usher songs btw =p ). It's never happened to me before in my life and I never expected it to happen at all, let alone like this. So this is something new for me (and f*cking scary, might I add). But somehow you managed it. So there. I suppose you will be both freaked out and proud of yourself.

So in truth if I seem hesitant or withholding stuff, that is probably why. Since we don't talk about it, I avoid the topic. But with avoiding it naturally there is some censorship going on. Some by my choice and some due to respect for you. So now you know. And if you avoid me, I do not blame you in the least lol. And now I've made an ass of myself in front of all of WP because I was too embarrassed to say this anywhere else. And no I'm not drunk, in case you were wondering.

That is all. I am going back to my box now.
And there is a nice submit button there - I think I will press it and see what happens. Here goes nothing.

Dear Invisible Man,

I wish I knew for sure what your role in this is so that I could maintain my trust in you or accept the worst and move on. I know I screwed up but I know I'm not the only one who screwed up. I don't know what happened. I'm learning how to not believe anything but to hope for future peace while I try to teach myself life skills through repeated epic failure and recovery. I haven't been as impressive as I thought I could be in this kind of "freedom." I've been letting you down, thinking its impressive just to not get bogged down emotionally. I need to do more than that. I need to not just survive. I need to fight to build a better life conduct system for myself. That takes recognizing and accepting constraints and external powers acting on/against me, making plans to work under/within them, and following through with those plans. If I can stay cool and work with cerberus constantly breathing on my back, I will be tempered for a future job in which I hold a lot of responsibility and can help a lot of people. This is what I choose to see.


Sincerely,

The Great Wall of China

Dear Me,

Try again, old fool;
And take a stance young tool.
Try to stop what you start;
And clear the rust from your heart.
Stop the voice in your head;
Make it say the right thing instead.
Become a man, if you can;
Then realise you're just a sham.
Fight wars, bloody wars, within;
That leave no scars on the skin.
Don't let the fear ruin it all;
As it makes you stumble and fall.
Make right, what you made wrong;
The thoughts playing over like a song.
Hide away from those you don't know;
And don't let your feelings ever show.
Don't you wish that it eventually stops?
But what will happen, when your heart drops?
Be afraid of what they say;
Then stay away, stay away.
Give up, but never say "I quit";
Chase your dreams as you sit.
Look at all that is theirs;
And forget about all their stares.
Spot an angel in their flock;
But be helpless, as they mock.
Find a cave where you are safe;
Live in the darkness as you wait.
Be a friend to those who care;
But don't tread far from your lair.
Hope that you can be what they desire;
And revive the dead earth, after the fire.
Hope that you can be what they want;
But don't be sad when you can't.
Fight in vain, and be compelled to try;
But refrain from asking "why?".
Keep the light on as you sleep;
In it's darkness forever weep.
Be amazed that she never says "No";
But wake up with nothing to show.
Wish that others could say what you feel;
But your thoughts, to them, aren't real.
Let it all be taken away with time;
But try to catch it all in rhyme.
Realise that you're subject to your fate;
Feel disappointment, but never hate.
Wonder why they stay away;
Or remain silent, and never say.
Watch it all end in tears;
What a waste of all your years.

i_w_b

To me,

Keep going young soldier,

Take no prisoners,

Don't look back,

Stay strong.

From you.

I don't know what to do, or if you will even read this. My heart is breaking today...knowing that I will be away from you for a few weeks. The last time we spoke/met, things were better and there were very nice vibes between us. Except that one woman kept flirting with you and tbh all I could imagine was my fist punching her straight in the face. I know, I know...not ladylike, lol. But, I'm trying to be more transparent. You probably noticed that the last time we talked to each other. I wish my feelings were not in such conflict with everything else. Please know that I'm well aware that things will not always be perfect rainbows and sunshine between us...but I don't care...just want to try, and have the chance to feel all of it...both good and bad. I'm sorry for my last short piece on here...if you read it...but it was how I was feeling...so it seemed right at the time. The emotion was building up and just needed some pressure valve release that day. This has been a rollercoaster. There are days I feel up and high as if on a drug and other days where I feel down....that makes me question my own stability and our future. If we both had healthy ways of processing this...my thoughts are that we could navigate through this better, rather than feeling like we are wandering around in a "new country" in the darkness. On the up side, am trying to hang in here until late Fall. Please do not mistake my silence for lack of caring toward you. I care very much, more than you know, okay?

Dear .....,

I'm still open to having a friend.

Me