I was very badly abused by dad growing up. He slapped, punched and choked me, complete with shouting about all that he thought I was. He kidnapped us from my dear mom and grandparents, who had had no experience with a violent, narcissitic Italian guy. Because I was the oldest, and a girl, I was to fill in the role of wife and mother to my sister. This is covert sexual abuse, I am told. I left home at 17, because I thought he would kill me. He will tell you that it was because I was "doing things", like running away and smoking pot and sleeping with boys. And I ws doing those things, because I was so lost and so sick and so scared. No one would help, my sister protected herself by being "the good one", and just taking on the identity that dad placed on her. I rebelled because I could not and would not give in to his demands - that I deny him being abusive, that I dress, talk and pursue the career that he would have me do, that I never leave him and always take care of him, that I hate my mom and blame her for his behavior, in essence, that I only mirror to him a picture of a right and respectable man. My sister is a lot like my dad today- can't really be responsible for her negative actions, puts on a fantastic mask, and has a dual life - different to those she loves, when no one is "looking". This is my upper middle class life, with new clothes, private school, and abuse and neglect all through it.
So- I go through my life, struggling to survive, make horrible horrible choices. Abusive men, unplanned pregnancy, bulimic, stressed, terribly poor - like no electricity, or car, or money, or even tampons poor. Food stamps, tears, fights, womens shelters, therapy, children involved (so a good game face-pretending that mom getting whopped is just an unfortunate fact of life). Always wanting things to be different. I worked really hard, and got off welfare, and worked on the inside to change my thinking, recognize my value, I contribute to society today and earn a good wage. My children turned out ok, just finding their way, too. I have admitted any wrongs I ever did, even to dad, asked for forgiveness, struggled to forgive myself - still do. I did the work. I tried for many many years to maintain some sort of relationship with dad, who never helped, just said things like "I didn't raise you to be this way", from the comfort of his large, cushy living room while the kids and I live in a crack motel (no, I was not on crack, which made it even uglier). He always threatened to take the kids from me. Would always tell me to let him adopt them. Only then would he "help" them. An incident last Oct. left me knowing that I cannot talk to him, so I choose no relationship. My sister got breast cancer, and for a short time she became an authentic person, but met an intellectual like herself, and the two are in an intellectually very abusive relationship. She no longer talks to me. If she didn't want me to know how crazy and sick her man was, she should not have told me.
Okay, so here is the deal. I am still in so much pain. It is daily. It is deep, I cannot stop grieving. Everything I am is tied up in that old pain. No matter how high I climb, there is no end. I am still eating disordered, I drink too much wine too often, I cry alone, I am depressed and defensive, and absolutely inconsolable. I know that this is not right, but I do not know how to let go. People say you just do it, but if it were that simple, I would have done that a long time ago. I have worked my way to a place that a lot of battered women never see, and I know this intellectually, but my feelings tell me different, my feelings cause me despair - despair at the futility, at the force of nature that was my dad, taking me places no child should go, scarring this child out of sick ego and need, ripping a family to shreds, do you ever think about how impactful we are in this life?? Everything we do that is harmful and sick to those we love causes their whole life to change shape. I wonder what I could have been. I am never really happy with myself. I obsess on human nature, on my story, hell, I do hair, and I am also everyones psychiatrist!! Except mine. I feel hopeless that I will ever heal. I pray for freedom from this torment, this story, and God does not free me. I do good things for people, I try to be good to myself, but that is slow-going. The kids will tell you they watched me climb out, and they admire me, and seek my opinion often. God I love my kids. I hurt them so much because I was hurt. Oh why am I still grieving? I live today with a great man, who knows that I cry, but cannot comprehend the burden I carry inside. So he can't help me. But believe me, my pain shows to him. When it is bad, he can't tease me, as I am so raw I take it personal. I admit, I do feel sorry for me. and my sister and my mom. Is it a pity party? That sounds so cold, I have never referenced my grief to that, hurt hurts.
What can I do? Why can't I release myself from the guilt and shame that I feel at the waste of this life? I can't change one thing that happened, not one thing, and I want to sooooo bad. I want to go back and do it again, and do something different. I want to love myself - I hated myself for the abuse heaped on me, and did all this stuff to myself and the kids, and now I don't hate myself, I dislike myself intensely. So I want to like myself. I want this life to be justified before it's over - I am 45, and want to make this half the best, but if I can't get rid of this stinking thinking, how will I ?? Will dad dying take care of this, by making the end of our relationship final, instead of me knowing that he is this old man that I won't talk to, because he thinks I am unreasonable and don't love him?? Do you understand how it feels to love someone who beats you and molds your life like some evil Zeus, to feel guilty for NOT talking to him??? yes, maybe you do. People don't come to this forum to learn about liver flush.
I am powerless that there is no resolution. No way dad will ever accept his role as Tornado in all these lives. No acknowledgement that he allowed and orchastrated the pain on the people he "loves"? That he has caused me health problems, and mental anguish. He is so comfortable today, in his nice home, with his nice car, contributing to this charity and that alumni association, while his grandchildren are trying to figure out how to do college with no financial assistance from anyone (abusive dads are generally deadbeat dads). I resent that so much.
So what to do, fellow readers. Thank you for letting me write this all down for the whole damn internet to read. I can't keep telling the story to everyone I meet, hoping that one person has the magic Forgetful Dust for me, I can't keep medicating with wine or food, cause that doesn't work, I thought perhaps I will just start dumping onto the forum. Lucky you.**wry sarcasm**