A
female
age
41-50,
anonymous
writes:My father died last year. We were never close, I grew up with my mum (they were separated). We had an on o.k. adult relationship (or so I thought). As a child I was often scared of him because he liked to use physical intimidation as a method of getting his way and at that time he had heavy alcohol problems as well as smoking up to two packets of cigarettes per day. He kind of helped us financially at some point, but never showed interest in my education. When my mum died ( I was 17 at that time) he basically left me alone (I also had to arrange the funeral by myself). I was in the process of doing my A-levels at that time and getting a job proved impossible (you had to be 18 in my country to get a job): I rented out a room in the flat, but he was so resentful that I was getting money from somewhere else. Some months he would leave me as little as 80 Euros to live on for the whole month. Through my childhood and into mu adult life he always proclaimed an idealised love for "his daughter", but in reality I never felt that, and it came across that he had a daughter somewhere in his head and I was not the person he loved.When I went to university I decided to stop seeing him as a father and instead decided to just have an ordinary friendly adult relationship with him as one might have with a distant relative. All the time we lived in separate cities so I didn't see him much. I though that we had a pretty good relationship in the last years.When he came to visit me last year he seemed to be interested in only getting his point across to me, for example his views on the universe and religion: he said that he didn't want to hear my point because it wasn't important etc.etc.etc...The visit proved tiresome and in the end I was glad that it was over, not the least because he had a pretty negative attitude and kept saying he was sorry that I was in such a "deep sh and *", when in fact I managed to live in London, had a job and was trying to get my way around financing my studies. I thought I did o.k.! I knew that he lived in a house with his 80 year old aunt and was struggling to get his things organised, I tried to encourage him to do that, but he seemed to be desperate to do it by himself.However when I went to sort his things out after he died I nearly fainted: nobody knew how he lived, and he didn't let anyone in into his rooms. The place was a dangerous tip, with thick yellow cigarette dust lying around everywhere, food bits, mess, stuff, generally an absolute disaster zone. It turned out that all the time he also lied to me: he was eligible for some money in my name as long as I was studying,he said that he didn't receive it, but that was a lie (I would have let him keep it if he needed it!): he was receiving it, even though he was not eligible for it in the last year. I could be liable for returning it, even though he stole it from me! Instead of paying a cleaning service to tidy up his place, or getting himself a new mattress, he spend money on lottery tickets (yes!) and buying "pretty silver coins" as he put it. I totally don't understand how he could have lived his life like this, and lie to me all the years, whilst pretending that he cared about me! I presumed we had a good relationship in the last years. He knew that I had financial difficulties sometimes (that was why I had to interrupt my uni) but he chose to keep the money he received in my name to spend it on the lottery! and the to lie to me about it, and tell me the he feels sorry for me that I am in "deep sh^ and "!He ruined my relationship with my aunt (his sister) because he launched a whole lot of legal battles against her to throw her out of their mothers house (not to get paid off for his part, no, to throw her out of her home).I always thought that when somebody dies you are supposed to forget their mistakes and you wish you could make it up to them: I don't feel that way, but I don't know how to come to terms with the shame and anger at the negative life he chose to live. He was so full of hatred towards everyone (his sister, his aunt, his other family members, the bus driver, the psychologist, everyone)I think I was the only one he didn't hate, but then he didn't think I was important enough to spare me ugly lies and cheats.How can I make sense of his life?I feel disgusted when I think about him: I always wanted a dad that I could cuddle up to, instead I had this ugly monster with disgusting bumpy oily skin, sweaty stink, dirty nails and cigarette smoke, who resolved to violence when he didn't know how to deal with a child.He looked like a zombie when he was alive!I keep having nightmares about him: he is doing bad things and abusive to me. I tried swimming, running, reading before bed etc, but I still keep having those nightmares about him.He manages to creep me out from beyond the grave.How do I make sense of his life and stop feeling angry with him?
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reader, anonymous, writes (27 March 2009): This is verified as being by the original poster of the questionThank you very much for your responses. I think part of it comes from the social expectation to feel sad at the departure of a parent. Your responses were great, I will consider giving counceling a go, but the main part is that it is o.k. for me not have to feel obliged to mourn for him as a father. Old Guy, yeah you are right that I am mourning for the image of the good dad that I never will get to have.
I think I want to do everything right and feel also upset that there is nothing to mourn about, especially for the sake of the extended family (he alienated them, true but they still had more feelings for him than I had), so I felt a bit inhuman. But now I am thinking that maybe it is o.k. to feel that way.
Thanks for taking your time to read and answer my post.
xxx
A
reader, anonymous, writes (27 March 2009): If I read between the lines a bit, I get a sense that you're in part mourning for the image of a good father that you'll never get a chance to have. His passing not only took away the unconscious hope that one day he'd see the light and be what you hoped for; it also dumped some brutal reality on you. That's a double whammy, and it's no wonder you're having trouble shaking it.
Let me reinforce some of the others' comments. He is no reflection on you or your life, for one thing. You've overcome disadvantages to make your way in the world no thanks to him. Be proud. And from what you describe, he was a father in name only -- more like a sperm donor. Don't accept any of his baggage as your own -- leave it in the cemetery with him. As for being angry with him, think of how he lived his life -- hostile, in squalour, alienating his wife, his sister and others -- sounds more like an object of pity than anger to me.
Counselling might very well be useful. This has clearly been eating at you for a while -- talk it out so you can put it behind you, where it deserves to be.
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A
reader, anonymous, writes (27 March 2009): This is verified as being by the original poster of the questionNote to moderator:
"I keep having nightmares about him: he is doing bad things and abusive to me. "
I didn't say that in my post" I said that I dream about him killing me or me killing him/ as well as him raping me in my dream.
I have violent dreams about him: I do bad things to him and he does to me.
I was never sexually abused in real life, but the mods change could lead others to believe that, especially that other parts of my posts relate to my father being violent in real life.
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