The letter directed only to her. In big capital letters
It goes like this:
What’s the point in loving you when the effort it takes me to hate you can create another big bang? I have always wanted to hate you but as soon as your attention is given to me I cave in. Even though you’re the one I blame for everything.
You once complimented my strength and determination, you wouldn’t stop complimenting me and I kept yelling STOP, STOP. I yelled because I knew they were lies and even if it was true it wasn’t because of you or from you. The only thing I inherited from you was my uncanny need to hate you just as much as you wanted to hate your own mother
You said I was strong for what I went through but you weren’t there to hold me through it even though you were the cause of it. Even still, you called it a phase every time someone brought it up. A phase where 3 attempted suicides took place that you didn’t even know about. To you, it was a call for attention. Never given but always complained it wasn’t needed.
Sometimes when YOU want the attention you’d tell people MY story. The one where you speak so highly of me and of how I got through everything to be the person I am today but how would you even know about that? How would you even tell them that? because when I told YOU, you denied me and my feelings. You denied my fear and told me to play with my demons. You told me my depression was invalid because you ‘raised’ me right.
A contradiction I always tried to fix. you said you ‘raised’ me right but I promise you I barely remember you in my childhood.
You are every single reason I am dead. You are the very reason I considered death. I blame you for this. My fourth but successful suicide attempt. I leave this letter to you and only to you so that every pain you put me through will sink into you and you will never continue living life as well as you did because you will always remember that you are the reason your daughter is dead.