I'm sorry, my little frog. I left a bit too soon.
Nobody understood me either, nobody listened to me either! But the truth is, I was sick. I was sick, and I refused to hear any of it. Because I was stubborn and dead set on doing things my own way.
I was sick and I refused to hear any of it because my illness — antisocial personality disorder — is exactly what it does: it stops you from understanding. And very few people around me ever grasped that. The diagnosis is heavy, and ugly in the world's eyes. Very few people could see that I was sick. Very few people wanted to help me. I couldn't see it myself, and I didn't want to help myself either.
But you helped me. You believed in me. From the time you were small, you never abandoned me. You gave me what I needed most: your unconditional love. Through every crisis, every outburst at the people who loved me most, you were always there. Thank you for that, my girl.
I'm gone, but I'm still here. I'm part of you. And when I look closely, I find myself in Zachary too. I see the shape of my eyes in his. And from where I am, I can feel his anger as well. He's angry too, Fanie. And he needs you to support him, to believe in him. Not to explain what to do when he's angry — no. He has a whole team of specialists around him who will handle that. What he needs from you is to SHOW him how anger is managed, and more than that, to understand the reasons behind his anger, beyond the words he doesn't yet know how to say.
The only way you can do that is to first learn to master your own anger, your frustrations, your disappointments, your sorrows too. Not to smother them — of course not. You have to understand that anger and frustration are unavoidable in this life, and that every obstacle along your path has one purpose only: to help you become the best possible version of yourself.
I'm sorry, my little frog. I left a bit too soon.
I would have loved to be here today, to hold your hand. But the truth is, it probably would have done you more harm than good. Because to help you "take hold of your own life," people would have asked you to stay away from me, to make sure I never met Zachary, to keep your distance because of the illness and because of my behavior, which was so often unacceptable. They would have asked all of that of you, and it would have destroyed you. Because you loved me dearly, and you could NEVER have chosen between your son and me.
I know you're looking for answers. I know you want to understand why I left too soon. All of it comes back to the illness. First the ASPD, which meant I had no awareness of how unacceptable my behavior had become, and no awareness that the illness eating away at my body demanded my full attention — demanded that I do something about it.
I left so that I could make room for you. To give you the chance to become the big, strong little frog I know you want to be. I'm gone, but I'm still here. Keep talking to me, and know that I hear you. Keep believing in me, and I will put in your path the opportunities you need to reach your goals.
Love you. Dad.