For letting a holiday get ruined by a bad gift. for not putting two and two together sooner; I knew how much money we didn't have. For knowing my mom sacrificed her pride (among so many other things that I didn't recognize at the time) and got rewarded with childish ingratitude. For taking so many of the wrong lessons from that day.
You were TEN. You were a very bright child, but you were a CHILD. When adults don't behave like adults, it does not mean that children have to behave like adults
( ... )
Yeah, it is tough. But it is possible to at least partially succeed, by asking questions, by retelling and reframing the narrative. One can imagine, for example, how the narrative might be retold if your character did not have (imposed upon him by emotional abuse, let us remember) the responsibility to keep everyone else OK.
Kids don't understand everything (erm, especially when they're not told - how could you possibly know she hadn't chosen that for you?). Mothers know that. You were TEN. It's a mother's job to occasionally put up with childish ingratitude without taking it too personally, because that is the nature of children, even when those children haven't been through painful upheaval and abuse.
If there's anything you want to change about yourself, you can go ahead and do so - you're free now, and an adult, and more able to understand. But really, there's a limit to the amount of guilt anyone needs to feel about things they once did as a child in pain. She hurt you, Jim hurt you worse, and you're tying yourself up in knots over having possibly hurt her a little bit that one time. That guilt is something awfully familiar to people who had too much demanded of them as children. The responsibility feels huge. But it isn't, not in reality.
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It's damn hard to cut yourself any slack
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If there's anything you want to change about yourself, you can go ahead and do so - you're free now, and an adult, and more able to understand. But really, there's a limit to the amount of guilt anyone needs to feel about things they once did as a child in pain. She hurt you, Jim hurt you worse, and you're tying yourself up in knots over having possibly hurt her a little bit that one time. That guilt is something awfully familiar to people who had too much demanded of them as children. The responsibility feels huge. But it isn't, not in reality.
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