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Ambiguous Grief, Mourning Living Parents
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Ambiguous grief. It's awesome to have a name for this feeling I carry around with me. My parents did die and there was never closure, and I have to accept that, no matter how much ancestor work I do, there will never be the kind of closure that I think I want, the kind where they admit how much they sucked and how much they fucked me up and then left me to pick up the pieces. This is the first time in my experience that anyone has even intimated that I am parenting myself, even now, and suggested that I celebrate that. Thanks. So much thanks.