I am going through a very emotionally stressful time atm and as part of trying to relieve some of the stress, my husband suggested I write a letter, which I have spent this morning doing, but I need to send it (part of the healing process), but not to the person I wrote it to, so I thought I could send it here. I hope that's ok. After reading some of the stately homes thread I understand that this forum is a safe place. Thanks.
Dad
Funny little word that, Dad, its supposed to conjure up images of a father that was there for his kids, someone who would fight tooth and nail to protect his children. ?Any man can father a child; it takes a real man to be a Dad?. So why knowing that do I still feel that I must call you dad, you haven?t been a dad, you have been a dictator and abuser, you ruled your kingdom through force and fear. Over the years I have learnt to suppress my negative feelings towards you but now they are bubbling to the surface as I have had to confront them.
You are ill, immobile, vulnerable and dependant on the kindness of others. But I feel nothing towards you, there?s no sympathy, there is no love for you, there is no kind thought I can muster, my thoughts towards you are that you have got what you deserve, the nastiness and bullying that you inflicted on the people you supposedly loved has come back to haunt you.
Your excuse has always been you did the best parenting job you could; you might have but believe me you was and still are shit at it. However you can not claim you did the best you could when you won?t except that you did wrong, you wear the ?Bastard? title as if it?s a badge of honour, proclaiming to all that your ex-wife and your children regularly call you it, with a smile on your face and a glint in your eye.
You were a bastard. You left me and my mother to deal with the police after the facts of my sexual abuse came to light, you ran as fast as you could to your brother and mother, their problems where more important than your daughter. It was your friend that took away part of my childhood and you did nothing. I was terrified and you refused to see it.
The rest of my childhood was taken away by you, with your violence, dragged out of bed to watch you beat the shit out of my mother, kicked in the ribs because I dared to give you food, threatened with the belt because I didn?t move fast enough to do your bidding, sitting and watching you eat whilst I starved. The memories are tucked away inside my head, these are only the ones I dare to recall, the others I am scared of remembering, scared that the person I have become, who I had to fight to become, will disappear and be lost in the abuse.
Each year though you add to the list, you no longer use physical violence against me, you got clever and realised that a thump wouldn?t stop me, maybe contacting the police the last time you tried it made you realise that I do have a voice you can?t control, but it doesn?t stop you trying emotionally, you attempted to belittle me to my husband, a man that loves me because of my strength and courage, a man that sees my beauty when you tell him I let myself go, a man that made me see that I am worth more than what you made me believe for years. Did you try to split my marriage because you couldn?t stand that I was no longer your possession?
Your announcements of ?I will be dead soon are pathetic, you?ve been trying that one for the past 20 years, it doesn?t work anymore. Neither does ?I miss you?, you chose to leave the country announcing there was nothing here for you, my family was never a significant part of your life so how can you miss what you never really had or wanted. Its all part of trying to make me feel guilty, you are no longer the centre of attention and you can?t stand it.
My guilty feelings are because I feel nothing for you, I am constantly told that because you are my dad that I must care for you but I don?t, I feel guilty because I can?t feel what others expect me to feel. I shouldn?t care what others think, but I do, it stems from the damage you have done, I doubt myself, my opinions, my thoughts, my dreams, my ideas and most importantly my feelings and I still look to others to see if I am taking the right path, the approved route.
The one thing I can be sure of is that you haven?t changed, I saw the violence that you are still able to inflict, an 8 yr old little boy that dared to splash you in fun became the victim this time as you pinned him under the water in the pool. Why don?t I bring my children out to you for a holiday I wonder? Maybe it?s because I don?t trust you.
I know typing this that it?s a letter that will never be sent to you, as an adult I have no fear of you, but the child that is still stuck inside my head and heart is terrified, terrified of the consequence of sticking up for herself. I know that someday I have to give that little girl the freedom to express herself before she tears me apart, but at the moment I can?t let her loose, I don?t have the strength to control her.
How does one end a letter like this? Do you just sign the bottom? Write take care? At the moment all I can think of is
I AM ANGRY, I AM ANGRY AT YOU, YOU STOLE MY CHILDHOOD. And I can never forgive you.