I hear you, Fuzzy.

This sense of injustice plagues me, too.

If you don't mind me mentioning it, you were clearly treated so unfairly as a cub.

I know that in my (similar) situation, I sometimes burst into tears out of sheer frustration. There was no way to win, no matter what I did. Perhaps this is what you feel when you express the need for perfection in yourself?

Dear friend, nothing we could have done would have turned our care-givers into the trusted source of comfort and encouragement we so badly needed.

It's a tragedy, and I'm so sorry it happened to you.

Thank you for sharing more about your own experiences these last few days. I thought it was a good sign at first, but can now see that you're having a horrendous time.

Just so that you don't feel alone and exposed, I can say a little more about my own struggles with a sense of unfairness.

One of my bursting-into-tears moments happened when - despite my dad being the violent and frightening parent in our house - my very loving mum also turned on me.

His behaviour had driven her into a deep depression. I understand. The fault is his!

Nevertheless, it's a memory that still makes me cry because it was so unexpected and unwarranted.

It was school holidays, and I was pottering around our flat, minding my own business (age 8/9 or so... not sure), when my mum suddenly threw me out.

She was in a terrible state. A battered wife who felt totally at rock-bottom, scared, and trapped...

But throwing me out hurt me so much!

She was shouting that I needed to get out from under her feet, that sort of thing. But it came completely out of nowhere. I was shocked! Found myself outside, in the cold, without a coat! And having no choice but to walk away. To where? Nowhere!

It was humiliating. People could have seen us.

The worst part of all (this is the bit that always makes me tearful) is that she was pushing me hard in the back! Hitting me, really. Shoving me away from her, out into the world.

There'd been no argument!

I had to wander around town all day. Kept trying to find places to keep warm. But I was snivelling the whole time. Broken-hearted, really.

What hope is there for me, I thought, if even my mum can pick me up at any moment, drag me to the door and throw me out.

I was too young to be out alone in the city!

Fuzzy, I hope this isn't triggering for you and that it makes you feel a little less alone. When we have starts in life that are like this, what chance do we have?

Much love to you.