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I don't even know how I should attempt to preface this.
I told myself I wouldn't do actual "journal" type entries very often, and it's been a couple of years since the last, so I'll consider this a personal vent session to get my thoughts out before the turn toxic. As the title suggests, may I never need to send this letter, but at least I'll have it on file should the need arise.

Really?

I understand that I'm twenty-six in a little more than a week, that I'm happily engaged and in the middle of buying a house for my future; I understand that life isn't perfect and that you're currently going through a bout of depression; I know your marriage hasn't been the best in the world; I understand I'm the only person you think you can talk to without any judgment... but I can't just listen to the news you gave me yesterday without something that was already worried about you two - my only parents - dying inside. Of all the things you've told me, mom, this is by far the heaviest news you've ever dropped.

Remember when I was thirteen and you got very depressed and suicidal because you thought dad was cheating on you with some girl, because he had a little too much to drink? How you didn't sleep for a week straight and thought he'd disappear and leave us homeless? Imagine my surprise when you told me that you had been cheating on him since practically the same year when you had this breakdown. Thirteen. Years. You've been in the bed of someone I assumed to be a close friend of the family for thirteen years. And you have the gall to call me and tell me you're depressed because your no-rules secret ******** suddenly has a girlfriend to make up for his divorce? You don't know how to handle that the man who's not the man you married is trying to start a life with someone again? You expect me to just sit and take all of this without thinking how justified all of dad's angry outbursts seem all of a sudden. Did he know? Does he know? You told me that it was just between you and me, that I wasn't allowed to tell either of my brothers because they'd hate you for it; how am I expected to not be hurt by this too?

I spent most of my middle school and high school years terrified that I'd come home one night and have you tell me that dad left and wasn't coming back. I was worried that he was just becoming a bitter and angry man, leaving me to watch over you and Kurt because Chris was never around. Strange how the tables seem to have turned. You have three children: one who's thirty-six and unemployed, me, and a younger son who's fresh out of high school and trying to get his feet under him. If your marriage fails, if dad does find out and determine you're just not worth it anymore, I'm not going to be your savior - not unless you make a legitimate attempt to set this right. He screwed up once, you've admitted to me that your thirteen year long screw up just came to an end. Do you know what that tells me? You would've kept on going until something finally happened, then run to your little friend with benefits to pay for your plethora of medications or turned to one of your kids to support your habits. Have you no guilt? No shame? No self respect?

You'd used to go on about how "responsible" I am, how proud of me you are. I earnestly wish I could still say the same about you. You told me you thought I knew; how is a thirteen year old supposed to piece together that her mother going out with friends - WITH HER HUSBAND IN TOW - is simultaneously using that friend to silently hurt her own family. Did dad stop putting out, or were you just bored of him? Were you really selfish enough to think that something like this wouldn't hurt me to know? Being true to my word, I'm stuck carrying this vile secret until either you split up with dad or die. Wonderful thought, isn't it?

You're my mother. As society dictates, I'm supposed to love you unconditionally because 'mother is God in the eyes of a child' and all of that delicious delirium. I don't intend to break ties with you over this, unless you decide that this friend with benefits is more important than the family you were trying to raise, more important than the man that you raised that family with. The man you MARRIED before you started this selfish idiocy. Get your priorities straight. I know dad wasn't perfect, that I was a nightmare child, but this form of 'escape' is about as low as you can go in my eyes right now. I'm still your daughter, you're still my mum, but you won't have an ounce of my respect again until you grow a backbone and manage to set this right.

Flustered and irritated,
Your confused, pissed-off and deeply wounded daughter.