you’d think that if someone was finally able to recognise emotional abuse and manipulation in their family for what it was, they’d be able to let go and ignore the self-criticism that inevitably becomes embedded in them.
my family life hasn’t always been that bad
until i was about 10/11 i think it was my mum and i used to live on our own. we weren’t rich but we had a nice life kind of. my mum always had to work nights and did odd jobs trying to save up to fly my dad into this country, help him get a visa etc etc.
i remember when i was little i had this little fairy tale in my head. i remember a dream i had. my dad was here and i was on his shoulders and we were walking around and he was the best daddy ever and everything would be great when he came to london and lived with us like a proper family.
i feel sorry for my mum. it must have ripped her apart after all those years of waiting for my dad to arrive, he ran us into debt, turned into a psycho, and had an affair with another woman and a son. maybe there was a time when he did love my mum and me. i’ve seen photos of us together when i was a little girl, he seemed pretty chuffed to be a father. well know i know that’s not the case. he was only ever interested in having a son, an ‘heir’ i guess to carry on his family’s pathetic ’empire’. that’s why he had an affair and fucked off when he had a son with another woman and left us to deal with his shit.
tbh i have no idea what made my dad suddenly switch personalities. maybe it was the prospect of money and power. maybe he was just frustrated. well he was obviously frustrated with his own life and i was his personal venting/punch bag. he didn’t actually punch me but i got alot of beatings for no reason and personal put downs. i think he enjoyed telling me i was ugly on a frequent basis. i know i’m not ugly, i’m a pretty attractive lady, but i think those insults played a part in me later developing self image distortions and eating problems in my early teenage years.
one thought that disturbs me is that i was somehow expecting my dad to rape me. it was always in the back of my head. i know he was a disturbed person with anger problems, but i don’t think he would have done that. well i hope not.
the last time i saw my dad i ran into my room and locked myself in and cried. i think that was the last time my mum ever hugged me actually.
my mum and dad always had arguments. i remember one time my dad forcing my mum to get out of the car and walk home and we drove off. my worst memory of an argument between them was when my mum decided to get drunk and i could hear shouting and screaming in the living room. i walked in to find my little brother who was only about 5/6 months at the time screaming and crying because he was so scared at what was going on around him. i tried to take him out of the room but nobody would let me in. my mum later came to apologise to me telling me that ‘my dad was making her drink’. nobody can ‘make you drink’ mother.
after a while she eventually threw my dad out. that didnt stop people on the street following us wherever we went demanding that we give them money that my dad owed them and it didnt stop my dad from coming up to me in the street and acting as if he was the world’s most loving father and pretending nothing had happened.
because of my relationship with my father and my mother i’ve always pretty much thought i was worthless. none of my friends had families like this. and i didnt understand why. i didnt understand why i had to phone the police when my dad hit my mum and i didnt understand why i had to be put through all of this. most of all i don’t understand why my mum seems to have it in her head that i am somehow my father reincarnated. to me that is just betrayal. i was the one who witnessed all these things and tried to help and now i am the one receiving the full punishment for crimes which i did not commit.
i wish she would go and get help so my siblings don’t have to carry on this cycle.