Well... I don't know. The problem is, in my case, I really am to blame. And it's too late to do anything about any of it. It all just was what it was. So I simply strive to accept things as they are from moment to moment, day to day. I almost never cry. I learned early on that that's just not what boys, let alone men, do. But I'm besieged with guilt & remorse 24 /7. And when those difficult memories come up, which they do over-&-over again, I breathe into them, & smile to them. Sometimes I will even place a hand over my heart as a sign of compassion for them. Then I allow them to fade of their own accord until the next time. What else can I do?