Dear T,
How can you not recoil in disgust when I tell you these things? Why aren't you telling me it was all my fault and that I deserved it? Why are you being so nice and accepting of me despite the things you know? What if I start to believe you when you tell me it wasn't my fault and that I was a child and thus powerless to prevent things? What happens if I no longer have the certainty that I was so bad that I deserved and even caused those things to happen to cling to?