To the Heroes it concerns

To whom it concerns,

I was not granted the kind of life that comes with an abundance of people who make a significant positive impact on it despite the need for such people. My mother wove a web of lies and deception around her to control everything just how she wanted it. Anyone who threatened by word or deed to expose or deconstruct that web was cut off or kept at what she deemed a “safe” distance. Siblings and other relations alike were manipulated to prevent any break from her control. I was lucky enough to have a sparse few who were at least able to help me break the cycle in one form or another.

The first person I can remember as my hero would be my grandmother. She always protected me from my mother’s abuse. Being born with Asperger's syndrome made me an easy target for my Narcissistic/psychopathic mother and my grandmother was always the one to stand between us and keep Mother from even being able to spank me. My grandma understood me better than anyone, or else she just cared enough to try, but either way she was more of a mother to me than my actual mother. Grandma taught me my ABC’s and helped me learn to walk. She would fill the kiddie pool so I could play outside in the fresh air despite my extreme heat sensitivity. Grandma bought most of my clothes because I could only bear certain clothing textures and my mother would only buy me what SHE wanted me to wear. She was the one to make my food for two years because I could only stand to eat three things and my mother refused to let me eat those three things for every meal. Grandma made sure I was fed, clothed, protected and loved. Then she passed away when I was four years old, before I was old enough to understand the depth of what she did for me. She left me with a deeply protective nature that I treasure and try to pass on to my own children.

My next hero to thank would be my grandfather. He always made sure we were fed and cared for even if Mother was too busy with her own life to bother. I can distinctly remember him telling her to take us to the doctor or her would do it and she’d be left to face the consequences because she’d ignored us being sick for too long. I can also remember him dropping boxes of groceries off at our house when my mother moved us in with her boyfriend and spent all her money going out. Grandpa’s goodie boxes were the only reason we ever got to try special treats like drink pouches or toaster pastries. Sometimes they were the only reason we got dinner. Mother would even dump us at his work while she went off to a date. He never got angry or let on like we were any kind of inconvenience. Grandpa went out of his way to make sure we felt wanted and loved, even treating us to soda and candy. He would never let Mother punish us for it either. Grandpa would always tell her HE gave them to us and we weren’t allowed to defy him, so if she wanted to be mad at anyone about it, she could just be mad at him.

I didn’t realize until adulthood how much of an impact my grandfather made on my life. He imparted so much wisdom and morals just by his everyday actions that it wasn’t until my own children began to ask how and why I knew to act and behave a certain way that I came to realize how much Grandpa effected my life. He taught me to take responsibility for my choices and learn from my mistakes. Grandpa taught me what true self-lessness looks like and how to be that way myself. Most importantly he taught me not to let anyone be mean to my children, it is my job to defend them.

My second to last hero to thank would be my adopted mom. She isn’t actually, but she stepped into the role when I needed it most. We had a family friend growing up, Tracy, and I never knew why she stayed friends with my mother. Then my step-father got a job overseas and there were no accommodations for adult children. Because of the increase in pay my mother was ready, and planning, to dump me literally in the street. She had spent literal years convincing me I would never be able to function in the “real world” and prevented me from getting a job, a vehicle, or even a driver's license. Now they were leaving for another country and I had literally nothing but my belongings and my dog. Tracy volunteered to take me in and it saved my life.

Tracy helped me with so much. She helped me get into college classes and apply for jobs. Tracy helped me get a car and license. She even helped me learn how to navigate veterinary care for my dog because it had never been allowed before. Tracy helped me learn to communicate so much better and trust my instincts on many things where I'd always been told I was wrong before when I wasn’t. When I met and married my spouse, Tracy was the one who supported me through learning how to navigate a relationship. Then when I had my first, and every subsequent, child Tracy stepped into the role of grandmother when my actual mother couldn’t be bothered. Tracy has showed up for EVERY life event, whether major or minor, for myself and my children since she took me in. As far as we are concerned Tracy is their grandmother. She taught me the importance of showing up for your kids. That every moment matters. Tracy showed me how much it helps to listen to your children and talking to them like they are people. For every thing my mother taught me NOT to do, Tracy has taught me the right way to handle it.

Without Tracy, Grandma and Grandpa I really don’t know where I would have ended up. I know for absolute certain I would not be the person I am today and I would not be the parent I am either. All the good things I can find about myself came from them and the care they took to preserve my heart and soul. A letter and mere words would never be able to express the depth of gratitude I feel for them. But at least through this letter I can put those things out into the universe since I cannot say this to them in person for various reasons, all pertaining to my mother.

The final gratitude I would like to express, is to my children. I struggle with Depression and Anxiety and my upbringing had an intense impact on both the creation and the intensification of it. For the majority of my life, I wished I simply didn’t exist. I can remember lying in bed at night begging whatever powers that be that I wouldn't wake up in the morning. I have even had moments of planning the end. Having children did not magically make all of that go away, but it did give me the strength and determination to seek out the help I needed and find a medication that works as well as possible. My children are the reason I am determined to live, no matter how worthless I feel, because they are such wonderful additions to my life and I cannot bear the idea of not being there to see what they will become. I am grateful to them for being the reason I continue to fight. They are too young to know about any of this yet. Though they do know I have “sad sickness”, I will not explain any of it to them until they are old enough to understand without it negatively affecting them, or until such time as they begin to show any symptoms themselves. But I have wonderful, intelligent, kind, compassionate, and brave children. So much so that I often stop and wonder what I could have been if I'd had a parent who really cared about me.

These innocent little people are the thing I am most grateful for in all the universe and they are worth every bit of hell I endured (and in some ways still endure) to be here to experience their lives. I look forward to the day when I can tell them how much they really saved me.