Child

It feels like helplessness, like being a little kid again with no idea how to take care of yourself. It’s like being a kid again except it’s all wrong, with no one to care, no one to call, no one with a responsibility to take care of you.

It’s not their responsibility to take care of you, you should be capable of feeding yourself already. If you don’t eat, it’s not their fault. If you stop eating, that’s on you. If you continue to get worse and worse, that’s your fault. Your fault for not getting better, for not taking care of yourself. Shouldn’t you be more independent? You’re so old now.

You are mere years from being an adult, you are never going to survive out there, in the real world.

When it eventually crashes down around you, it’s your fault. You should have spoken up, you should have asked. Somebody would have made you food if you had just asked. All you had to do was speak up and we would have helped you. We are here for you, now and always, even if you aren’t the young child we raised, youth erased by time.

This isn’t on us, we were here every step of the way. We asked. We asked how we could help. We did help. We did everything right, we offered out time and our attention. We gave everything we couldn’t afford, and we humoured you. And you got worse instead of better.

We did everything we could, you just chose to get worse. You chose to make things worse. You had a choice and you chose to get worse. It’s your fault. You did this. We had no hand in this, we tried to help and you refused it, clung onto your silly delusions and rebelled against us just to hurt yourself.

Why can’t you do anything by yourself?