My dad called me two times yesterday, not in the best of times, to be very honest. I didn’t pick up ,and also didn’t call back. If it’s something urgent-especially for him ,he would try to text me too, or send something via messenger . Anyway. I went to bed, and had one nightmare after another, first about how bad of a person I am in his mind ,,and then the second one, which happened to be the worst. I dreamed that my dad was hitting me again. I was telling him not to do that anymore, as I’m a grown up now. I beg him to stop, and after some time he did stop. Then I told him that, If he ever hit me again, it would be the last time we see each other(I know it was just a dream ,but I also know how it would devastate him ,if I will cut all my contacts with him) .I was so proud of myself in that dream, because I stood up for myself. Not for long ,as he ended up hitting me again just to prove that he have power over me.
Dream was so intense, that I woke up and got a panic attack .Not as bad as they used to be. I knew it was just a dream and that it was all not real . I have used some tricks that I have learned during my treatment for PTSD to make myself calm, to ground myself, as I call it, and it worked. This took me a while though. Didn’t have a panic attack for quite a while now, but I guess with all the stress nowadays, it’s easier to find yourself in that horrible state again.
I’m not a role model daughter, but I try my best. My dad is pretending to be “good” now and seems to forget about the pain that he caused me and my brothers. He doesn’t want to admit that it was not only my mom , who beat the crap out of us. I’m already ok with the idea that he will never openly admit to it, or even apologies. I even caught him lying in front of my friends, saying that he never hit any of us, just made us exercise. Well just my brother. We don’t speak about what happened to me . Last time I tried to have a talk about the abuse, he said to me ,to not say anything since we might both hear the things that we don’t like, suggesting a bit ,that maybe he was not always a perfect dad indeed, but I wasn’t the best daughter either.
So you see, there is no point starting the conversation. It’s not like things will get better after I will hear him admitting to anything. Nothing can change what happened, the damage has been done. I’m moving on, but it’s painful to see that he isn’t. With time ,I got to understand that he was a product of an abnormal family structure and toxic environment. I know his life was not easy, but since I could choose differently, why couldn’t he ?
Yes ,I know that I will never get an answer to this question. I’m fine with that.
I just wish to not feel so guilty ,that I didn’t pick up the phone, or didn’t contact him often enough. I was raised to believe that parents do not make mistakes, that it is a sin, to not cherish your mom and dad above everything ,because they give me life (with the help of “God”, since we were Catholics )
But you know what,they were not only mom & dad.
They were also my abusers.
So dear guilty feeling – I say to you bye bye.