by Band Back Together | Aug 21, 2014 | A Letter I Can't Send, Anger, Feelings, Loneliness, Love, Romantic Relationships |
We all have letters we’d like to send, but know that we can’t. A letter to someone we no longer have a relationship with, a letter to a family member or friend who has died, a letter to reclaim our power or our voice from an abuser.
Letters where actual contact is just not possible.
Do you have a letter you can’t send?
Why not send it to The Band?
Dear Nick,
Fine, I’ll be here for when you need some quick sex or someone to yell at. Don’t worry about my fucking sanity, all that matters is yours. You have put me through so much yet hardly want to own up to it.
I have told you things about me that no one knows. When I opened up to you last night about some things that my ex said, I thought that I would receive the same compassion and comfort that I give to you when all you want to do is die. But I was wrong. You had zero compassion, or love, or understanding for what he put me through. I don’t care about him, I really don’t. But it still hurts that someone I had given everything to told me that I don’t meet his standards. Can you understand that?
Do you know how much that hurt me? You don’t seem to care what I’m feeling as long as you get laid and have someone to comfort you. What the hell am I supposed to do if I get hurt? If you can’t say a few comforting words when I’m reliving a bad memory, what happens if I really get hurt? Why am I so willing to put myself through the wringer for someone who doesn’t seem to care?
by Band Back Together | Jun 24, 2014 | A Letter I Can't Send, Coping With Depression, Depression, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, Loneliness, Parent Loss |
Dear Mommy and Daddy,
We miss you. It has been a painful few months and I still have not accepted it. I still think that this was all a big joke and you guys will drive up in the driveway all happy and we will go back to being a small dysfunctional family like we were before all of this.
I look at pictures and just cry because I see how happy you two are in them, and I force myself to believe I will never get to see you two that happy again.
I just can not live in our house anymore, or even in our town. Everyone is telling me I can not keep Mia or Dokee, that I have to sell them. You both understood my love for them and that in a time like this I need them. So, I’m leaving to go to college somewhere. I want to become a vet like you always thought I needed to be, Daddy. I can not say that I have the best grades, but I think if I clear my slate and move on, I will succeed.
I have lost so much weight and now am twenty pounds under weight. I can not sleep at night. I am so depressed and ready to just give up. I can’t do this I can’t be told at eighteen that I have to pay bills and find a way to feed Steven. I just want to get away from it and hide.
I just want to get away from people telling me I have to sign this and this. Why did you put me through this, why have you done this? Was I that horrible as a child? Was it right to put me through this? Do you really believe I needed this?
– Sam
by Band Back Together | Jun 4, 2014 | A Letter I Can't Send, Anger, Bullying, Forgiveness, Infidelity, Trust |
We all have letters we’d like to send, but know that we can’t. A letter to someone we no longer have a relationship with, a letter to a family member or friend who has died, a letter to reclaim our power or our voice from an abuser.
Letters where actual contact is just not possible.
Do you have a letter you can’t send?
Why not send it to The Band?
Emily,
I thought about changing your name for this but then I realized, nope, screw that. You didn’t care about my feelings when you did what you did, why should I protect you?
I was going through a really hard time when you and I met. I had been dealing with infertility and wasn’t taking it well. We weren’t telling anyone we were trying to have a baby yet, so no one knew why I was fighting with depression as much as I was.
We were still fairly new to the area, and I was desparate for friendship. That’s where you came in. Your office was right next to mine, and we both had a lot of down-time with our individual jobs. We had a lot in common, so our friendship came naturally.
We confided in each other. Neither of us was in a stable marriage. Your husband preferred to go hunting rather than spend time with you. My husband liked hanging out with his friends after work instead of coming home.
I didn’t approve when my boss’ marriage started to fall apart and you flirted with him. You were not appropriate with how you handled that situation. But then one of our co-workers started paying attention to me. I won’t lie. I liked the attention. My husband was ignoring me, and this guy was cute.
I regret that I flirted with him.
Unlike you, I kept my flirtation to just at work. There was nothing more to it than two people who were attracted to each other who talked and flirted at work. I didn’t take breaks with him. I didn’t go anywhere alone with him. Did you know that when I took my breaks, I was in my office working on a Christmas gift for my husband?
You, on the other hand, took my boss out for lunch, just the two of you. You even went so far as to throw a party when your husband was out of town and invited a bunch of guys (and only one girl) from work to the party. There was drinking and craziness, and you admitted to groping my boss. I knew he was too emotionally distraught to return your inappropriate behavior, but I was less than impressed with what you were doing.
Then came that horrible night when my husband confronted me about my supposed affair. He repeated things back to me that I had told you in confidence. My words had been twisted to sound like I was guilty of much more than a mild flirtation. He accused me of a full-blown affair and implied that I was using this other guy to try to get pregnant. He said that I had been seen leaving with this other guy and we had been seen holding hands and kissing. You know as well as I do that that never happened.
He had his mind set that I was cheating on him and anything I said was a lie. I wish I could say I was 100% innocent, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.
We were leaving the next day on vacation. We still went. We talked through things and eventually he said he believed me that I hadn’t cheated.
What I couldn’t figure out was how he’d found out the specific things I had said. I had trusted you. Your sister-in-law also worked for the same company we all worked for. I figured you’d blabbed to her and things got back to him through the company grapevine.
We returned from vacation, and I went back to work. I still considered you my friend, but I was much more careful about what I said to you because clearly you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. I completely severed any friendship with our co-worker as soon as I returned. I requested a transfer to a different location, so my husband wouldn’t have to worry about me being around our co-worker.
A few years passed. I found out that the whole time my husband had been “hanging out with friends” after work, he had actually been having multiple affairs. While he never admitted to anything, I had learned to read between the lines to figure out what was going on. One day, he let enough information slip that I figured out you two were sleeping together. All that time I thought I could trust you, not only were you having sex with him, you were reporting back to him everything I said – twisting it to sound like I was mocking my marriage.
I looked you up online recently. I was happy to see your first husband divorced you. I wonder how much of his not being around you was caused by his knowledge of your behavior.
I’m still very angry. I’m angry at all of the women who knew my now-ex-husband was married and chose to have sex with him anyway. I’m angry with the people who knew about his cheating and didn’t tell me. I’m especially angry with you for pretending to be my friend while betraying me in the worst way possible. I don’t want to be angry anymore. The fact is, you’re not worth my anger.
I’ve moved on. I haven’t had any contact with my ex in years. I’m happily married and busy raising my kids. I don’t need to hold on to the past. I’m hoping that writing this letter and releasing it out to the world will help me to forgive you for your actions.
So I’m going to say it, even though I don’t feel it yet, in hopes that I’ll feel it soon.
I forgive you.
by Band Back Together | Oct 31, 2010 | A Letter I Can't Send, Coping With Divorce, Divorce |
Dear Girls:
I’m so sorry your mom and dad are splitting up. It’s a hard time in your life and will kick off other hard times to follow. I’m sorry for that. I know at four and five you don’t really understand what’s going on. You just know that for some reason Daddy is sleeping at our house and for the most part, you’re not. I’m glad Daddy is trying as hard as he is to stay connected to you. I know he misses tucking you in at night, but I also know it’s making the nights he does get to tuck you in that much more precious. And I know Mommy is doing her best to keep things together.
But enough about them…this is about you and the lessons I learned when I wasn’t much older than you.
#1 – This is not your fault. I know Mommy and Daddy have told you this already, but listen to your MaeMae because I know. Your job in life is to learn and grow and play and be kids. Grown-ups have other things to do and sometimes this means you get hurt in the process. I’m sorry. There’s really no way around that. But I know they’re trying to do the best they can to be better people and right now that means they need to not be together. There was nothing I could have done to keep my Mommy and Daddy from divorcing. There was nothing Daddy could have done to keep Grumpy and BeBe from divorcing.
#2 – Even though it’s not your fault and you did absolutely nothing wrong…it still hurts. And you’re going to get mad and get sad and miss Daddy and have a whole bunch of other feelings. It’s okay. Tell Mommy and Daddy about it. Tell me and Grumpy. Tell Nana and Papa. We’ll listen. We’ll hug you. And we’ll love you no matter what you’re feeling.
#3 – This is especially for you N. It’s not your job to help Mommy. It’s not your job to help her figure out what to do. It’s not your job to worry. You’re 5 years old. Your job is Kindergarten. Your job is practicing tying your shoes and figuring out how you want your face painted on Pep Rally day. Enjoy being 5. It’s a fun age. You still get to take naps at school. Trust me, when you get to be 25 like you so want to do and you have kids and a job and a husband and bills and taxes and all of the stuff grownups have….you’ll wish you were 5 again. So please stop trying to be a grown-up and go play with your sister and have fun.
#4 – K, you just keep being you. With your smiles and giggles and scribbles. I know Mommy really wants you to practice your letters, but scribbles are important too. And I know that your smiles and giggles and hugs make everybody you know feel better. But it’s okay to be sad, too. We love you no matter what. And don’t stop playing games with your Grumpy. He loves every minute of it.
And most importantly of all. No matter what happens between Mommy and Daddy. When they tell you they love you, they mean it. When they tell you it’s not your fault, they mean it. And please know, they’ve always done the best they could with the tools they had.
by Band Back Together | Oct 15, 2010 | A Letter I Can't Send, Grandparent Loss, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, Loss, Parent Loss |
Dear Lucas:
The last time I saw my parents alive was the day after my wedding, Sunday, August 5, 2007.
My sister and I choose to remember them most on October 15, the day we were both notified of their passing.
Sometime between Friday, October 12, 2007 at 8:00 PM and Saturday, October 13, 2007 at 8:00 AM they died of carbon monoxide poisoning. They were 61 and 58 respectively. Too young to die.
My parents lived overseas and dedicated their lives to working at American international schools around the globe for 28 years. My father was the principal of a kindergarten through 12th grade school in Tunis, Tunisia and my mother was a third grade teacher. They died in Tunisia.
For those of you who don’t know, carbon monoxide is odorless, colorless and is the second-leading cause of poisoning deaths in the country. Carbon monoxide poisoning claims nearly 500 lives and another 15,000 require emergency room treatment. It can kill you before you know it because you can’t see it, smell it, or taste it. A water heater vent was damaged in my parent’s kitchen and it emitted carbon monoxide into their home.
It’s hard to be the one left behind to pick up the pieces and ask the unanswerable questions. It’s stupid to walk around angry at an inanimate object. Most of the time I just feel robbed. My parents were anything but done with this life. One week to the day before their lifeless bodies were found, they had decided to retire and return to the United States. They were anxious to see my sister, who had recently graduated from college, start her life and begin building a career. They looked forward to us both having grandchildren (they would have been amazing grandparents and would have completely adored you, not to mention spoiled you rotten!) and had a long list of things they wanted to do to their Arizona home and trips they were excited to take. It’s unfair that they were taken from us too soon. I miss them every single day and ache to hear their voices again.
I’m mostly sorry that you will never get to meet them in the physical sense.
I hope that among me, your dad, your aunt, and everyone who knew them, we will help you know them too.
Sometimes bad things happen to good people, but I will forever believe that the best is yet to be.
by Band Back Together | Oct 10, 2010 | A Letter I Can't Send, Abuse, Addiction, Adult Children of Addicts, Alcohol Addiction, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Psychological Manipulation |
“Mommy Dearest,”
First off, I would like to thank you. Because of you, I know what kind of mother NOT to be.
Now, let me be blunt. You are not the June Cleaver type of mother you have created in your head. Growing up, my life was not normal. It was not okay that you spent pretty much every day of my childhood intoxicated in some way. It is not okay that you bought wine coolers at the grocery store would drink them on the way home while you begged me not to tell my daddy. Going to three different doctors to get Xanax, and then taking 12-14 a day at your peak was bullshit.
Then, you had the nerve to blame all this on me. You said the reason you became an addict was so that you could cope with doing things normal mothers do everyday. You said that in order to tolerate taking me to dance or attend my chorus concerts you had to get shit-faced.
Well lady, I call bullshit. Really. It is not okay to blame your insanity on a child.
While we’re at it, it was crap that some of my first memories are of you telling me you were going to kill yourself. You would whisper this in my ear so that Daddy wouldn’t hear you. You once told me right before a vacation to the beach that you would die there. You said that you were going to walk out into the ocean and never come back. You also seemed to go particularly crazy at holidays. Why? I don’t know. The thought of Christmas still makes me panic.
You have called me things like “whore,” “slut,” and “worthless.” You have told me that the only reason I am here is because of my Daddy. You said if had been up to you, you would have had an abortion. In what world is this considered sane? You wondered why I rebelled as a teen. Well hell, I was crying out for help.
Now, you have the balls to think that should I allow you in my life because you finally decided to get sober? You expect that we should be friends and I should help you?
Let’s get this straight: I don’t owe you a fucking thing.
You have never apologized to me for being a shitty mother. You’ve never apologized for the psychological damage that may never go away. Not only that, you don’t even acknowledge that you ever did anything at all. The things I have listed here are just the tip of the iceberg. Conveniently, they seem to slip your mind.
You have nothing now because you left daddy. You wasted every cent that you got in the divorce. It’s your fault that you have nothing. It’s your fault you have no one. It’s your job to make a life for yourself. It is not my job to fill your life with happiness. God knows, you never filled mine with any.
You, as a mother, are supposed to be there to lift me up. Not the other way around. Our roles have always been reversed and our relationship beyond dysfunctional. I may have had to take your crap when I was little, but I sure as shit don’t have to live with your insanity now. I will not give you the chance to poison my four precious angels the way you did me.
You may be sober, but you are still the same selfish, self-centered person you always were. Unless you can prove to me that you deserve another chance in my life, I will always resent you and keep you at an arms length.
Get over it.
I had to.
Your daughter (in name only),
Kelly
