Dear Laven:

After reading all your threads, including this most recent one, and spending a few hours this Sunday morning studying your writings, I’ve gained a deeper understanding of your situation. I want to take a moment to truly acknowledge the immense weight you’re carrying. What you’ve shared reflects an immense amount of pain, exhaustion, and loneliness, and I just want to say—I see you. Your experiences, your emotions, and the depth of what you’ve endured matter.

You’ve spent your life being strong for others—providing care, protecting, and sacrificing—but that doesn’t mean you are only meant to serve. You deserve to be cared for, supported, and valued—not just tolerated.

It’s heartbreaking to see how deeply embedded dysfunction has been in your life, and not because you chose it. It makes sense that stepping outside of it feels impossible—but even small steps toward self-care, toward honoring yourself, are worth it.

I know that healing feels unreachable, maybe even unrealistic, but you are not broken beyond repair. You are more than what others have put you through. You are worthy of understanding, of love, of feeling truly seen and heard.

Beyond everything, I want to acknowledge your remarkable strengths—because you have many. You are a talented writer, capable of expressing emotions and experiences with deep insight and honesty. Your words paint vivid pictures, and that in itself is a gift. You are a loving person, even in spaces where love has not been reciprocated. The care and protection you’ve given your foster mother—even when she hasn’t deserved it—show the depth of your heart. That same compassion is part of who you are, and it’s powerful.

You also have resilience—even in the hardest moments, even when you feel like there is nothing left, you keep going. That strength matters, even when it feels invisible to you.

You don’t have to navigate all of this alone. Seeking professional support could help lighten the burden you’ve carried for so long. You deserve guidance that is compassionate, trauma-informed, and truly focused on helping you find peace within yourself. And if you ever want to share more—on the forums, please know you are always welcome to express yourself without judgment from me.

Sending warmth your way. You matter, and I hope one day you feel that fully. 💙

anita

Dear Scw:

Thank you for sharing your thoughts so openly. It’s clear that this experience has stirred something deep within you, and I can sense how much you’re trying to make sense of these emotions and their origins.

The fact that you feel so strongly—even when there was no major event in this life that explains it—suggests that there may be something deeper at play, whether spiritually, energetically, or emotionally.

Processing emotions, especially ones that seem to come from somewhere beyond this lifetime, can take time. Giving yourself space to sit with them, observe them, and allow them to unfold naturally sounds like a gentle and mindful approach.

I just looked it up and read that there are several online resources that explore karmic connections, past life emotions, and spiritual insights through Buddhism and astrology, two of which are: * Exploring Karmic Astrology – This resource offers insights into karmic lessons, astrology charts, and spiritual connections, and * Understanding Karmic Relationships – This article explores the emotional intensity of karmic relationships, explaining how unresolved past experiences can manifest in present-day connections.

Whatever this experience means for you, I hope it brings clarity and deeper understanding as you navigate it. Wishing you peace as you reflect and process—take all the time you need. 💙

anita

Dear Scw:

You are very welcome! I would like to reply further in the next day or two, when I have the time to give this my full attention. Please feel free to add anything you would like to add before I return to you.

anita

Dear Lucidity:

I truly appreciate your thoughtful input and advice. Your message was both insightful and compassionate, and I admire the way you approached this topic with such depth and understanding.

One of the biggest strengths of your response is how you balanced realism with emotional encouragement—acknowledging the complexities of childhood experiences while reinforcing the importance of self-forgiveness and growth. Your ability to reflect on your own journey with honesty made your advice feel genuine and deeply relatable.

I also appreciate how you emphasized the power of accountability—your perspective on expressing heartfelt remorse and taking ownership of past mistakes was incredibly meaningful. The example of how much an apology from a parent could mean really underscored just how transformative accountability can be in relationships.

Lastly, I love how your message carried both validation and gentle encouragement—reminding me that regret is natural but dwelling on it too much isn’t helpful. Your approach made it clear that healing is about acceptance, growth, and meaningful action rather than endless self-judgment.

And yet, as meaningful as your message is, I postponed reading and processing it until I responded to every other post in the forums—simply because of the emotional pain involved. Now, I will quote from your post and try to work through this pain, to release it if I can, while also commenting on your own experience. I’ll be typing as I think—if any of this feels overwhelming, please feel free to pause or read at your own pace.

“I can imagine the remorse you must feel and the desire to address it, rectify it somehow… I was needlessly cruel in how I interacted with her on an emotional level, and I have also hit her which, to this day, fills me with guilt. I think how could I when she was probably still 3 or 4 I believe.”-

I’m sorry you had that experience, but sharing it makes me feel less alone in mine. It breaks my heart to picture her—so small, vulnerable, trusting, and unable to protect herself. And then, the painful reality—knowing that I was the one who inflicted harm. I can feel this pain right now, the weight of knowing I wronged a little girl who did not deserve that pain. It deeply bothers me that I wasn’t stronger than the cycle I was born into—that I repeated and passed on abuse instead of stopping it.

I was hungry a little while ago, but not anymore. Right now, I just feel devastated by what I have done, regardless of the circumstances behind it. But perhaps zooming out and seeing the bigger picture helps—the widespread abuse that shaped my mother’s life and then became part of mine. Not to excuse my wrongdoings, but to understand them better. I didn’t create evil—I carried it forward. And that realization gives me more understanding and compassion for people in general.

“But I can also make sense of it. I feel remorse but I don’t dwell on it.”-

I think I need to dwell on it to an extent—to sit with the remorse long enough so that I don’t push it down prematurely. The image of her, maybe 2 or 3 years old, and the image of me hitting her… I can’t let that memory slip away too quickly. And I remember something else—watching my mother hit my sister when she was older, and feeling something disturbing: a sadistic pleasure.

Why did I feel that way? I ask myself, because I know that emotions themselves are valid—not actions, but emotions. They always have a purpose. What was the purpose behind that sadistic pleasure? As I process this, I think it came from identifying with my mother—the powerful one, the one inflicting pain instead of receiving it. That fleeting pleasure carried a message: I wanted to be powerful. But the only reference to power that existed in my “home” was abuse.

I wonder if this is the same path taken by people who become violent offenders as adults—if they, too, learned to equate power with abuse, and then chose power in the only way they knew.

“I accept it and remind myself how I felt when I was going thro those times. Frustration has a way of escaping and so it did.”-

I would really like to know how you felt at the time, if you’re comfortable sharing.

It takes strength to explore these things.

“Existing, as you were, in a home that was probably a war zone (mine certainly was), where you were storing up injustices, sadness, and anger.”-

A war zone—it truly was. And in a war zone, there is no space for justice. Survival comes first. It’s about power, not fairness. Justice only comes later, after a ceasefire, when safety is finally within reach.

“Have you ever tried to raise it with your sister that you are regretful of these types of episodes and your treatment of her?”-

I have. I apologized. She dismissed it quickly, as if it wasn’t such a big deal—if I remember correctly.

“From my experience, expressing heartfelt remorse and apologising for your part in it is always worth doing, even if to allow yourself the lightness to move on whether she accepts it or not. That’s my advice.”-

I should probably take your advice and offer a fuller apology—to make it more complete. But would that be for her benefit, or for mine? Right now, she is dealing with so much emotional pain and overload. I worry that apologizing might be selfish—a way for me to unload my burden onto her.

“I have bought up a couple of regrets with my sister and told her I am sorry for them. That is the only action I can take to make amends that are meaningful to me so I am glad that I have done that.”-

I think my sister’s way to survive—from an early age—was to suppress her emotions. Pushing them down so hard that they manifested as migraines even when she was very young. If I apologized now, I don’t think it would bring her relief. Accessing emotions would not be easy for her—it’d be painful, overwhelming.

Perhaps you can imagine relief because your emotions are not deeply suppressed? Maybe accessing them is smoother for you than it is for your sister?

“There are 6 years between my sister and I as well. I get the innocence of childhood of the younger who is thrust into the vengeance of the elder. We were a victim of circumstance and time. Pay your dues and forgive yourself.”-

I somehow missed the fact that your sister is also 6 years younger than you until just now—what an incredible coincidence.

Indeed, my younger sister was thrust into my vengeance. But since I can’t change the past, there is no benefit to not forgiving myself. That realization came to me a year or two ago, and it made a difference.

Sometimes, when I engage with people here in the forums, I try to make up for my past wrongs—by being present for others in pain, by listening, by offering kindness.

anita

Dear Psychicremdev:

Beautifully said! Words have a powerful way of shaping our mindset and helping us through challenges. Sometimes, even the smallest reminder of our strength and resilience can make all the difference. Do you have a favorite quote or mantra that helps you when times get tough?

anita

Dear Laven:

You write like poet and I feel the weight of what you’re expressing.

Even when life feels unchanged, when pain feels relentless, you are not invisible, and you are not alone in this. I know that my words are not be enough to change how you feel, but I want you to know that your struggles matter, your feelings are valid, and you deserve support and care—not just from others, but also from yourself.

If there’s even the smallest moment today where you can allow yourself a breath, a pause, a flicker of kindness toward yourself, I hope you take it. Sometimes, the smallest steps lead to the most meaningful changes. You are still here, and that matters.

Sending warmth and strength your way. 💙 Would you like to talk more about how you’re feeling? I’m here.

anita

Dear Rosie:

What you’re going through is incredibly difficult, and I can feel how much you care about your nephew’s well-being. It’s clear that you’ve done everything in your power to support him—giving him stability, advocating for him, and providing a safe space where he can thrive—even when the system and your family have failed to step up.

From what you’ve shared, your nephew is living in an environment that does not prioritize his well-being. His mother’s alcoholism, drug history, repeated run-ins with the law, and emotional absence all contribute to neglect.

It’s also concerning that your mother didn’t step in—her lack of urgency suggests a disconnect or unwillingness to acknowledge the severity of the situation. If the adults around him aren’t ensuring his basic needs and emotional health, he is left vulnerable in ways that could shape his future in damaging ways.

The fact that your nephew was failing every class before arriving at your home, but is now passing, proves just how much a stable and supportive environment impacts his ability to succeed. You made a difference. You provided structure, care, and consistency—things that seem absent from his home life.

Your concern that he will lose this progress once he returns home is valid. Without an engaged guardian, it’s likely he will slip back into the same struggles—not because he lacks ability, but because he lacks the support system he needs.

It’s admirable that you want to respect his wishes to return home, but it’s also important to recognize why he wants to go back—not because it’s a healthy choice, but because it’s what’s familiar. Despite everything, he may feel a strong sense of loyalty toward his mother, or simply not fully understand the dangers of staying in a neglectful environment.

You are in a tough position—you want to protect him, but past attempts with child protective services have left you discouraged, and your family has been unsupportive. The fear of making things worse is understandable, but the reality is that doing nothing could also allow the neglect to continue unchecked.

Here are a few things to consider as you navigate this situation:

* Maintain an open line of communication – Let your nephew know that you are always a safe space, no matter what happens. Encourage him to reach out regularly, even if he’s back home.

* Seek guidance from professionals – While CPS was not effective before, there may be other organizations or professionals who can advocate for him differently. Consider consulting a family lawyer or social worker to explore other options.

* Prepare for emergencies – If things escalate and his situation worsens, would you be able to take him in more permanently? It might help to consider long-term solutions rather than reacting in the moment each time.

* Encourage him to build self-sufficiency – Since he’s thriving under your care, maybe help him develop tools to maintain progress even in a less supportive environment—whether that’s helping him organize study methods, stay motivated, or find trusted adults at school who can check in on him.

* Keep documentation – If anything serious happens, having a record of concerns (like failed classes, neglect, or troubling behavior) could strengthen a case for intervention in the future.

You are doing everything you can to help him, and even though the situation is frustrating, your presence in his life is meaningful. His time with you has shown him what stability feels like, even if he can’t stay permanently yet.

The decision of whether to file another CPS report is incredibly tough, but if neglect persists, it may be worth reconsidering—especially if his situation deteriorates. No matter what, keeping a strong connection with him will remind him that he is not alone and that someone cares deeply about his future.

Sending you strength as you navigate this—you’re doing far more for him than you may realize. 💙 Would love to hear your thoughts.

anita

Dear Scw:

You are very welcome. What you’re experiencing sounds incredibly intense and deeply personal—a wave of emotions that almost seems to have caught you off guard. It’s understandable to feel bewildered when such strong feelings surface seemingly out of nowhere.

Whether this emotional connection with this man stems from a past-life bond or subconscious emotions surfacing from this life, the intensity you feel is real and worth exploring.

The way you describe your experience—thinking, missing, longing, yearning, crying—suggests that something within you has been awakened, something perhaps buried or unprocessed. Sometimes, longing for someone isn’t just about them—it’s about a longing for something lost in ourselves or an ache for a time in our past that we cannot undo.

It happens that emotions lie dormant within us—feelings we don’t fully recognize or process at the time—but when something triggers them, they resurface with surprising intensity.

It’s possible that part of this experience is linked to fantasy or idealization. Since your interactions with him were limited over the years, your mind may have filled in the gaps, creating an idealized connection that feels stronger than the reality of your relationship.

You wrote, “From thinking to missing to longing to yearning.”- If in this lifetime, you’ve been yearning for deep emotional connection, excitement, or meaning, your mind might have attached those feelings to him, making your emotions feel intense and even spiritual.

Maybe this is a subconscious attempt to resolve something from this life. You wrote, “He was treating me with extraordinary care and I think I felt he was special but I didn’t know why.”- maybe what needs to be resolved is the absence of extraordinary care in childhood, or the loss of that extraordinary care sometime along the way?

Regardless of the reason, your emotions are valid, and there’s no right or wrong way to feel. What matters is giving yourself time and space to process them, without pressure to define or act on them right away. You’re not alone in experiencing sudden emotional awakenings—many people go through similar situations when something from their past unexpectedly resurfaces.

anita