Dad

I don't understand.

When I was a child my father tickled me to the point where it hurt and I begged him to stop, which he didn't. Then he'd hold me down and say: "I could kill you if I wanted to."

I was a little kid and my father was a big man. I was powerless against him.

My father screamed at me all the time and called me names. I was "mental", a "snotnose brat" and a "thankless kid". When he drank, it got worse.

I wanted my father to love and accept me. Nothing I ever did was good enough. I felt like it was all my fault. If I tried harder, did better in school, was prettier, etc., then he wouldn't treat me this way.

I was terrified to tell anyone. My mother said "What goes on within these four walls stays within these four walls." and "The Bible says to honor thy father and mother." When I got a bit older I heard about a group called Alateen. I wanted to contact them in the worst way. But I was too scared. I was afraid that my father might find out and kill me.

So I harbored this secret my whole life. I went to several counselors but couldn't bring myself to tell anyone. I keep hearing my mother's words in my head. I tried to move on. I tried to forgive.

When my mother passed away there were some people who constantly asked me "How is your father?". It was hard to steer the conversation in another direction. I would mumble about how he sings, plays cards, etc. I didn't know what to say and I still don't.

I became increasingly active in Catholicism, the faith in which I was raised. Obviously I still harbored resentment towards my father for the way he treated my mother and I when I was growing up. However, I felt the need to "honor" and "forgive" because that is what my religion had taught. He was a difficult, arrogant man. Still, I kept trying.

While I think that on some levels my mother was an enabler, I believe that she was frightened of my Dad, that he might kill her and/or me. I also think she thought she was doing the right thing by being the good, obedient wife. A deeply religious, traditional Catholic, she had made a commitment before God and His Church.

When my father became ill and hospitalized, I took care of his affairs. His personal life and financial matters were a mess. Still, I kept trying. I went to visit him. He got up out of bed to use the bathroom. He knew that he wasn't supposed to do so without consulting the nurse but he did it anyway. He shushed me not to tell the nurse. His roommate became agitated and said he shouldn't do that, he could die. The nurse came in and admonished him. Dad became angry at her and threatened to leave the hospital.

DH and I continued to visit. He had only a handful of visitors. I prayed and sang hymns over his bedside with the Sisters at the hospital. He wanted to get out of there. I told him that the nurses said he couldn't leave yet, he was still too weak. He called me a liar and a charlatan.

He finally went to a rehab facility, the best of all that DH and I had visited. The staff was kind to him, but he was abusive and uncooperative. Pulling out tubes, refusing to eat, removing the DNR bracelet. Now he's in another rehab place, behavior hasn't changed. People try to help him and he's nasty. Last times that I saw him he had nothing but horrible things to say to and about me. He forcibly pushed my head away.

I left the room. I went into the ladies room and sobbed. I tried to compose myself. I went back into the room. More abuse. Back to the ladies room. Same thing. Repeated this the next day.

I can't do it anymore.

I have a DH and three children. They are my family. I love them. DH still visits Dad. Dad is still nasty. Someday DHs picture will be depicted in stained glass if he keeps going.

I'm in church on Sunday and the priest is going on about forgiveness and whatnot and my insides are a jumbled mess.

hi all

I hesitated whether or not I should write this blog. I don't want to hurt innocent people. I have grappled with whether or not I should "out" someone because they were abusive to me and someone that I loved dearly. Thing is, some people I care about deeply think that the abusive person is a good guy. They don't know what happened. If I "out" the abuser, these folks might be hurt. Chances are good they will be. I don't want that. My God, I don't want that.

But I am a loose cannon ready to explode. The aftermath of my abuse has been a lifetime of dysfunction. I have PTSD. I love my husband and children with all my heart. I love my friends. I feel like I can't be the person that I want to be with them. A good friend of mine keeps asking me "are you ok?". She knows something is wrong. I keep telling her that "I'm tired" but it's so much more than that