Dear Small Boy,
Sometimes making you makes me feel so, so bad. I get so angry. I get so sad. I feel so worthless. I feel so scared of losing everything. It happens so fast and I feel like I'm being pulled down, down, down into the undertow and I'm going to drag everyone and everything I care about down with me.
When making you makes me feel so bad, the rest of the world seems dim and hazy. I feel like I'm walking in a dream. I look around and see so many good things, but I can't believe that the good things are real because the bad things feel so much real-er. It's scary because I can't tell the difference.
Your dad tells me he loves me and makes me dinner.
"Is this real?" I ask.
"Yes, this is real", he says. He holds my hand.
And even though it still doesn't feel real, I decide to believe him.