Sami's Sunday Ramblings : father's day

I don't know how to start this post. I know what I want to talk about but I think I'm scared of an almighty backlash. It's father's day today - and it's also Lily's birthday, but I'll make another post on that! True to form, this ramble will probably not be as coherent as it could be.

*** This post has a trigger warning. I will be talking about some pretty intense stuff, so please make sure you're feeling safe. If there's even a slight chance that you might be triggered, please click away now. ***

If you saw my 'Stress Management' posts, you may well have seen that on my worksheet I wrote that I feel like I have no family-bond and almost think I could identify myself as orphaned without too much difficulty. As a child, I was basically pushed aside and felt like nothing more than an inconvenience because of the level of attention my twin brothers demanded.

Before I eventually gave up with my parents, I had earned the name 'Leechy Louise' for those very rare times I sought out a cuddle and was pushed away. I had to learn to comfort myself when I caught a bug and was being sick, because my mother wasn't willing to deal with it. I was made to feel incredibly guilty for needing to attend appointments at the local hospital while I was having extreme pain and growth issues in my pre-teen years. After a while I was taking myself to appointments.

I've briefly talked about my father here before. If I were to describe him now; I'd say he was a psychopath. Before the age of 18 when I finally realised what was going on, ironically just as I was losing my mind, I would have said he was my entire world and would do anything for him. He conditioned me from a very early age to view him as my sole source of safety, comfort and trust. He convinced me that my mother didn't want me around and he was there to protect me if she tried to hand me over to social services - which did happen, once.

This conditioning/mind-fuckery opened the door for evil to reign over the house, and even after my parents separated. That felt like the end of the world, because I was left with a mother who hated me and twin brothers that thought nothing of launching a joint assault on me.

So who was my father? He smoked. He drank. He had a vile temper. He was violent. He thought he was 'higher than God' and everyone should treat him as such. He felt the world owed him a favour. He couldn't keep a job. He spent vast amounts of money on motorbikes. He didn't care how his actions impacted on others, as long as he benefited the most. He laughed when he caused pain and fear. He was not to be questioned or doubted. He was a master of manipulation and lies. He was the Devil's minion.

I couldn't tell you exactly how he made me into his little puppet. I can't remember, either thanks to repression or the magic of drugs and alcohol killing off enough brain cells. All I know is that I had zero bond with my mother and he was the only parent I had, so whatever nightmare I was handed by him was better than being alone. This made being forced half-way up the country at a moments notice with no explanation that much more distressing when my mother and father first separated.

I learned years later that those incidents were under police orders for our protection.

So what broke the spell? I'm sort-of guessing here, because once again my memory is failing me. I was very unwell and called him to vent and seek some sort of support. My ex was with me and he asked to talk to him. He became aggressive and commanding, which I was furious about and told him so. Of course this was a dumb-ass move to make and I had to make the trip downstairs to let my mother and her partner know that my father had said he was coming over because of what I'd said - and why - and that they might want to call the police and move the dogs upstairs.

I waited outside for him, fully expecting an all out war and broken bones. He never showed. I moved shortly after. Once I felt the dust had settled, I tried extending an olive branch and finally saw my father for the piece of shit he really is. I copied these text messages he sent as a reminder to myself, that should I ever feel the need to try to contact him again, this is how he talks to his first born child:


I did contact him. Last year. Shortly before I got sober. I had a plan to meet him and seek my revenge on him. I was definitely psychotic at this point and was taken to mental health services before anything bad happened. I have no memory of this incident, just that it happened. Sadly, I exhibit a lot of his behavior when I am very unwell. The 'normal' me is fearful, introverted, controlled and wouldn't say boo to a goose. I would say hello and offer him food. The 'poorly' me is fearless, impulsive, violent and bullet-proof.. amongst other things.The poorly me has been lucky to escape without a criminal record, just a few section 136's and a familiarity with the local police officers!

I have not seen or heard from my father since 2006. I'm not counting the above episode because I don't remember anything!

How do I feel about my father? I hate him. I pity him. I want to hurt him a million times worse than he hurt me over the years. It turns my stomach to know that I share half his genes. One of my voices tells me to cut an artery to bleed him out, a lot. I have no desire to contact him. I won't contact him if I have a baby. I won't contact him if I'm getting married. I won't be at his funeral. I won't visit him when he's dying of cancer from smoking. He has been dead to me for years. I've already mourned the loss of a father... and a mother. A family.

I don't understand everyone else today. I don't understand this bond people have that makes a family what it is. It makes no sense to me at all! A lot of what I see my boyfriends family doing blows my mind. I love his family, but I am always thinking 'how' or 'why'.. I have a loving bond with my boyfriend, Lily and OxO, but everyone else in my immediate family is just..... shut down. Nothing. That's because of him.

My father is the reason why I am HELL BENT on staying sober. That is what unleashes the monster that hides in my genetics. My father is the reason why I am HELL BENT on becoming a success. I WILL get my degree. I WILL get my masters. I WILL complete a PhD and spend my life helping others. My father is the reason why I am HELL BENT on having a family that is the polar opposite of what I had.

Father's Day makes me sad and scared because I feel the pain of decades ago without a clear memory of what or why. I know I will never get an answer to the 'why' that spins in my head night after night. I'm certain he doesn't think about me or would even recognise me now. If I ever saw him in the street I don't know how I'd react.

So, there you have it.... 

Happy no-Father's Day to me!

Samantha Nicholls. Powered by Blogger.

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