Dance With My Father Again...

Having almost got my blog up to the modern day and reaching the 2 year mark since that historical day I left my parents home, I feel the need to conclude a bit...

I know it has been difficult for people to read my blogs and the truth that they never knew about, especially some of my closest friends and my new family. But whether I wrote this or not, these things happened to me and I felt the need for some closure, to analyse, to get my thoughts and feelings down about my roller coaster life now I am out the other side of it.

Surprisingly, some people have been very opinionated and close minded about me walking away from my parents and come out with things like "no one like your mum" or "nothing more important than family"...I am greatly aware of both of these points, maybe that is why I felt so betrayed by my own mother who should have protected her daughter no matter what? And I know family is important, I always have been a family girl which is why I stayed for so long because I cared too much, I so deeply wanted that wonderful, loving family!

As time has gone by, I have felt more and more hurt by my mothers actions or lack of action. Most people I talk to, whether they are a mum themselves or think of their own mums, say that they cant understand how a mother can stand by and watch her own daughter get hit and terrorised by her own father and never stand in the way to protect? It is just not natural. I am fed up of trying to stick up for her when people say that she was probably scared of my father too...yes I agree, but I was her baby girl who got abused by him from when I was a toddler....did she never get that motherly instinct to try and stop him??!

As much as people may think I am selfish and horrible for walking away from my parents, it certainly was not an easy decision to come to and one I agonised over for a long time. In previous blogs, I have explained the fear I felt towards my father but not really touched on the good times.....those times that made things so confusing for me... As I said, from a young age, things got worse with his temper as I got older and his bad moods were pretty much 85% of the time....but I still have that 15% of good time to remember...

One memory that will always stay in my mind was when I was 3, my father had just home from Falkland Islands with the RAF and we were still living in Shotley at the time. He was in a good mood, he had missed his family and by then I hadn't had a chance to annoy him. I remember all 4 of us were dancing around in the living room to Status Quo, head banging, riding dads shoulders and laughing and joking....that was a good day. But because it has always stayed in my memory, throughout my life, I always think about that day and wonder why he had to change.....sometimes I wished that I could dance with my father again....which is why this song is an emotional one for me and one I cant listen to with other people around...

But this aside, that was then and this is now and I can never forgive him for things he did to me and how much he hurt me over the years that followed. Sometimes I think that I quite lucky that even though I had my troubled upbringing, my life never went down the path of turning to other vices like drugs, drink or promiscuity (although people know I do enjoy my wine, its not a crutch!) Sometimes I think it is a wonder I am not in a padded cell somewhere re-living my warped childhood and trying to make sense of it.....its amazing what I dealt with with the love of a good man and his family supporting me.

Even today, I still have hang ups which I am trying to deal with. Like my fear of big, stocky men who get angry. A few months ago we were at a party and there was a little scene outside, nothing got nasty, the man shouting was not drunk and was in no way a threat but he was a stocky man who was angry and shouting at someone....and I couldn't help but get overcome with fear.....not of him but of the situation....Kev realised what I was feeling as we walked away from the situation and waited for the others by the car. I felt stupid afterwards for reacting the way I did but it wasn't a conscious reaction....my brain took over and that adrenalin kicked in, a bit like the 'fight or flight reaction', even though my safety wasn't compromised or even any anger aimed at me, my brain was telling me - 'flight'!

More recently, a patient at work had lots of visitors immediately post operatively and I felt the need to ask them to leave so she could rest....until I saw that her son was a big, stocky man! I was so angry with myself that I felt so intimidated and just couldn't bring myself to ask him to leave.....I had to ask my colleague. He was actually a lovely man and I felt terrible for thinking that just because he was the same body build as my father, he was going to act the same way!

Some things I don't think I will ever get over though, like my fear of drunk men, or my fear of anyone holding a knife or anyone putting hands anywhere near my neck or holding my wrists! I hate knives.....ever since I was shown that they were something to be scared of rather than just something for chopping vegetables...I don't mind using a knife myself but hate not being in control. I quite often stand in the kitchen with my mother-in-law while she is cooking and I feel completely safe with the knife in her hands but I am sure she has noticed that my eyes will never leave that knife until it is finished being used!

I get panic attacks if people go anywhere near my neck or both wrists. I remember one occasion that was quite ironic. Previously, during one of his tempers, my father held both of my wrists and I hated it......a year later he did again and I panicked, he could see my fear. Immediately, he got angry and asked who had been threatening me and holding my wrists..there must have been a reason for my fear.....I just quickly replied "I dunno, just something I don't like", I was too scared to tell the truth that it had been him but he had been too drunk to ever remember doing it! I didn't realise I still had a fear of it until once when Kev and I were play fighting, messing around and he held my wrists to bend over me and kiss me....without thinking I freaked out and screamed 'let go'....we both ended up tears....Kev at the thought of doing something that reminded me of my father and me because of my unjustified outburst! But these were the times that bought us even closer, he could see the hurt that was so deeply ingrained and we worked through these things together!

So, sometimes, yes I do wish that I can have one more dance with my father....as he was then before the bad things happened, that one day he was a dad and he loved me, we were a family...quite sad that I only have the one day to write about. I know everyone knows this saying but it is so true "anyone can be a father, it takes a real man to be a dad!"..... my father had sperm and he became my biological father, but he wasn't a DAD to me for many, many years! I don't regret my life, I wouldn't change any of it because I am so happy now but I feel sad for my father, if he had got help when he knew he had problems, he could have spared himself all of the heartache he is going through now as he sits with the knowledge that his own actions made him lose his own daughter....as I know my father well, I know he is a broken man full of regret. He had plenty of chances and now he will never see me again, be part of my life or meet the son-in-law he doesn't even know he has!

We are all accountable for our actions in life, maybe not in Court or with the Police but always with our own conscience. I have no battles with my conscience or have any regrets about walking away....it was the toughest decision of my life but my new life has revealed that it certainly was the right one for me and us. In the words of Jiminy Cricket, I finally let my conscience be my guide :)