I know Zelda, and I know she is brilliant and funny and capable, despite this.
But I'm still angry about it.
If parents have a purpose, it's to protect. To keep monsters away from children. Not to move them in with their children.
I suppose I'm as angry as I am because of what I went through in my own childhood -- nothing like this. But I also wasn't protected. My mother also let shit happen and pretended it was my fault. Our fault, since it happened to my brothers too. And now insists none of it did. Despite the fact that it's fucked up all of our lives. Nah, we just imagined it. Our childhoods were perfect.
I got tired of fighting about it about six years ago, and now I just don't go home anymore than I have to, or take phone calls very often. I'm sure she wonders why.