Here's the honesty you all want. · 11:16pm Mar 9th, 2018
A user who I won’t name asked me to be honest in my last blog post. So I will be honest about what’s going on, not just with you guys but with myself, too. I’ve lied in the past and have lived my life in denial of the truth because I feel so ashamed, so I’m going to lay it all out here, because I can’t do that anywhere else and you’re all about to see why. A lot of it is embarrassing as hell but I really just don’t give a fuck anymore.
My dad is a physically and emotionally abusive narcissist who only stopped hitting me over the head, gripping my arm and digging his nails in until my skin bled, and spanking me for literally anything and everything (it happened quite literally every day sometimes) because I eventually became physically bigger than he was. At age four, he would give me directions on things to do that most of the time had five or six steps involved, and if I forgot one of the steps, he took it as “willful rebellion” and spanked me for it. Now, whenever someone gives me instructions, I subconsciously have to fight back panic and feel enormous pressure not to forget things, and when I sometimes do forget something I want to kill myself. I couldn’t ask him questions or ask him to repeat himself or clarify something, or he’d say I wasn’t listening and spank me for it.
I had trouble eating food as a kid, particularly things with strong flavors. I have autism and so that stuff is hard for me, but we didn’t know that, then. If I gagged, it was because I was being ungrateful. Spanked. If I didn’t finish everything on my plate, spanked and couldn’t eat until I had written an “apology letter” to my mom. At age five. I’m shivering in my seat as I type.
I wet the bed until I was 15. I was shamed and punished when it happened, and I was forbidden from sleepovers at other people’s houses because of it.
My mom tried to make him stop sometimes, but he always gaslit her and twisted her words and what went on until she agreed with him. He never touched her, though, but if he had I would have killed him. When they argued, I knew I was the cause of it. I tried to shoot myself with the rifle in my dad’s closet when I was six because I thought that my mom, who loved me, would be better off and wouldn’t have to worry anymore and that she would be better off and more happy. I didn’t know how guns worked, though (I thought they were like star wars and just went “pew” when you pulled the trigger), so that didn’t happen. Fortunately, I guess?
My sister never got in trouble. Granted, she wasn’t a troublesome kid, but she got whatever she wanted. He bought her a car, I had to buy my own. She got good grades (she is actually a genius, so…) and he’d give her money. I got nothing even though I got straight A’s, too (I’m not a genius, though). Grades were the only thing I had going for me in life, even though school was hell because I have autism and kids liked to beat on me. I forgive them, though. I told my mom about the bullying and showed her the stab wound where another kid had driven a pen into my back, and when she told my dad he told me that I was letting them do it. But I knew if I fought back I’d get expelled, so I couldn’t do anything.
I couldn’t show emotions or tell anyone how I felt. I was told verbatim that it “doesn’t matter how you feel”. If I showed any emotion, it was forbidden. When he screamed at me, it was because he “wasn’t angry, he was upset”. If I ever tried to defend myself, I was “making excuses” and “talking back” and he would scream at me that I always raised my voice (I only ever raised my voice after he started it). He also said all the time that disobeying him put me on a fast track straight to hell, so my whole growing up I thought I was a horrible sinner who was going to hell.
Before he spanked me he would sometimes make me wait in my room for hours so he could calm down, because it was wrong to “spank out of anger”. He made me wait with my pants pulled down and it made me feel so wrong. He would tell me that I made him upset and that I was doing it deliberately. I wasn’t. The times I went over to my friend’s houses, and I interacted with their parents, they would always say how I was a good kid, but I never believed them because my dad sure didn’t think so, and my dad loved me and knew me better than anyone, right? I still feel like no one could ever really like who I really am, and I don’t even know who that is, either.
I had to learn to make friends in high school, and in order to do so I had to literally take notes in a notebook about the body language people used and how they talked/their mannerisms. Once I started finally making friends, my dad started telling me that I was bad at communicating with people and that I had to learn better so I didn’t get left behind in the “real world”. I’m always terrified of losing friends or saying/doing things that will make people not like me, and I always feel like a burden to people.
I only learned recently the word for this, but I dissociated a lot. I would literally be getting spanked and I would mentally go somewhere else while it was happening. I will suddenly remember things that happened to me in the past for no reason, and I’ll feel like I’m not present anymore. I’ll feel like I’m watching myself in a movie during really stressful situations, like I’m literally watching myself outside of my body. Sorry if that doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it feels.
He kicked me out of the house when I was ten, for a whole day. He told me it was for forever, of course, but I just stayed on the front porch begging him to let me back in and promising I would behave better and wouldn’t watch Spongebob anymore until he finally let me back in the house. (Anything I liked, he forbade me from doing because it was stopping me from growing up) From that point on, he always loved to threaten me with getting kicked out. I was/still am terrified of getting kicked out, especially since he did it for a full three weeks when I became an atheist and was only let back in because my mom told him that his family would think he was doing the wrong thing if he broke off contact.
Now, today, my dad is a lot more self-righteous. Well, he is the same, actually, but he’s switched gears. My extended family is fucked up, and I have a lot of cousins that are fucked up and need help. He brags about me and my sister all the time to his brothers and sisters and sends them emails about us in a way to try and get them to think he was such a great father, so much better than them. But this last August, I learned that he actually has told people about some of my health problems and being bipolar, and told them that he was going to be a godly Catholic and take on my problems. He has a lot of health issues right now, and he has gone on the record saying that he “prayed that God would transfer my sins upon his body” until I’ve seen the light. So, literally blaming me for his poor health and acting like a martyr while doing it. And now, he’s trying to guilt me for other things, like the medication I take for my bipolar being so expensive, and threatening me with pulling all of the money out of my bank account (I have a joint account with him; he insisted) if I squander my current opportunity in the doctorate program I’m in. Little does he know that I have $4500 in another account in my name only, but I haven’t told him about that.
Most of my friends from the past have moved on, and I always feel alone even when I’m with others. I’m always afraid and stressed that no one really likes me or wants me around, especially since that’s the way it always was. I can’t talk about this with my family because they always side with him and blame me for everything. I’m just so tired all the time. I always convinced myself that I “turned out fine” because of my achievements academically and that my dad simply pushed me to do great things, but I can’t keep that lie up anymore. Not with myself, and not with anyone else. I have to walk on eggshells with him no matter what, and with everyone else, too. It’s so exhausting.
Everything hinges on me getting a job in this field after I graduate. I have so much pressure I feel every single day, because I can’t keep contact with my family anymore and I have to be on my own once I can fully be self-sufficient. Until he’s dead. I hate him.
God, what an awful human being, no offense. This brought up feelings of my own, my mother acts very similar to the way your father does, as far as mental abuse goes, the worst part is I never considered it to be abuse, it was just normal everyday life for me. It's gratifying to know when you're not alone.
But whenever my mother has these episodes I always think to myself;
We will always be here for you, as long as you let us.
Perhaps I will get a bunch of downvotes for the violence inferred from what I'm about to say, but after reading this and then jumping back and rereading the chapter "hero," all I can say is this: It is unfortunate you didn't have someone like Spike around when you were a kid.
I think this needs to be said: your father's behavior is NOT normal. He sounds like he has serious mental issues, and using religion is only part of it. I'm not saying anyone who is religious is a nut...far from it. But that is the case here, based on what you've written.
You may want to consider breaking all ties with him once you move out...him and anyone that defends his actions, for your own safety and peace of mind.
Edit: After reading this blog, I have a newfound appreciation for Hoof Covers Bruise.
You have every right to hate him, but I can't imagine what it would be like to have to be him. You're actually better off being you.
That said, no child should have to deal with that sort of nightmare. Therapy might be a good idea. I wish you the best possible future.
When I spoke of honesty, I was talking about being honest to yourself and about accepting yourself the way you are, rather than pretending to be someone else to please the people around you.
However, I think it is still good that you "confessed" this here and wrote it down. Talking about things that bother you and weigh on your soul is a good method of letting things out, regardless if you tell those things a therapist or someone else.
You did not explicitly state it, but what you wrote here sounds a lot like you are still living in the same house as your father. In which case, it is easy to tell that your mental condition stems from these living conditions as well.
The best thing to do in this situation, as you probably guessed yourself already, is moving out as fast as possible once you have the means for that and then break contact with your family.
This might be hard, since you sound like there are other close family members you still like and would miss. But in an abuse situation like the one you described here, there is no one who is innocent. You nailed this down pretty well by implying how your mother didn't stand up enough to stop it. And if there are other close family members who are aware of the abuse, but didn't do anything or not enough, then the same goes for them.
Judging by what you described, everyone in the household had a certain role in the abuse, which means that each of those family members are likely to trigger you when you see them and to worsen your condition that way.
It is no surprise that therapy attempts seem to fail, considering that you still live there. With still being trapped in the abusive situation, they can hardly be successful, because any progress gets ruined by new abuse.
Getting out ASAP is the best thing you can do right now. And avoiding to see your family members, especially your father, as much as you can until then.
This is what you should focus on now, while using therapy and perhaps medication to help you through this time as best as possible. Only once you are out, the therapy you get can have the full intended effect and only then you should judge its value and how much it helps you.
Get out of there and don't look back. Trust me.
I think it's obvious, and I know this has been said, your father is not normal, he's completely fucked in the head, and him using religion to justify his behavior, it's beyond disgusting. Get out of that house as soon as you have the means to do so.
But we'll be here for you, long as you let us man.
Wow, you my friend are a strong person. If I were in that situation I probably would of done some horrible things to that "Father" of yours..
And as some people have said some of the truest words I've ever heard, we will always be here for you, as long as you let us. We are all friends here and we all care about each other, and this Includes you!
My respect of you has gone through the roof for having to live your life dealing with all this shit. Everything your Dad has done sounds completely fucked up. The influences this has had on your fiction works is now painfully clear (and I mean that in the best possible way; you're a brilliant writer, but no-one should have to go through what you've been through).
Get away from your family as soon as you can. Then get professional help, be honest about everything with them, and allow yourself to move on from this. I wish you all the very best, and we're sticking with you, always.
If it was up to me, I would let you stay with me for a while.
Man, that's terrible. Your respect points in my mind have increased by 137 gajillion since I first read this.
This is an example of a man who needs to be held accountable for what he's done, and he will answer for his atrocities. I don't want to outright start beating him into the ground myself, but I want to see him apologize and repent for what he's done to you--not killing him or singling him out apart from others that have the same problem he does. You are not the one responsible for what he's done. You are among people now that will stand by you and will love you, not in spite of what you've been through, but rather because of it.
At least you're not living with him anymore, right?
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I've accepted that he'll never apologize, and I'm okay with it.
I'm in an apartment that I'm using stipend and job money to pay for, but I'm still not fully independent. I also have an emergency backup fund in my name only, while a bunch of my money is still placed in an account that my dad's name is also attached to. I got duped into doing it with him years ago, but I can't transfer all of my money out, yet. I'm trickling it into my own account and hoping he won't find out until a lot later. Once that happens, it's go time. I'm gone.