An imaginary letter to my dad

Dad,

Much as I appreciate what you say about wanting a relationship with me, I don't believe that you are able to have the type of relationship which I (and you) so desire. For this reason I need to pull back as every time I've tried to relate at a deeper level you have not been able to.

All my life you have blamed me. You blamed me for your anger when I was young. You blamed me when I became an adult, and you blame me now. I was not a bad kid. I was desperate to please you, worked hard to please you, did what you wanted me to. In fact I've pretty much tried to do what you've wanted me to up to very recently - bar submitting to you in my adult life.

I was not a rebellious child. I got on well at school (despite being deeply unhappy and being bullied, thinking I was thick etc.). I got on well at church, leading groups from the age of 13, and seeing friends making decisions to become Christians from as early as me being 9 or 10 years old. I related well to adults, was polite, caring, responsible, well behaved, well spoken. I didn't drink any alcohol, listen to non Christian music, go out with non Christian girls, didn't smoke.. didn't do a lot of anything really.

Then I went to university. I worked for the church in the second year of uni - and you reacted as if I were working for the devil. I chose to get married in the town the uni was - and you couldn't talk to me on my wedding day.

It seemed to me that you had a plan of what you expected me to do - and every time I didn't do whatever it was - you believed I was rejecting you and reacted as if I had deliberately caused you offence. Along with your reaction was an inability to talk to me, to see (the real) me, a feeling of your own personal hurt. It was like me trying to relate to a someone who has been hurt and needs to lick his wounds. You can't see me, or my pain, only yours. And you do all you can to defend yourself.

Then, as has been the case since I was born, we have to ignore the fact that you are now unable to relate. We have to pretend that nothing has happended. Everyone pretend that dad is actually behaving perfectly normal. Despite the fact that dad is a mess on the floor, and we are all in a 911/999 situation, whilst no one being allowed to talk about the fact that dad is bleeding all over the floor. What - dad is in in pieces again? Upset? Angry? Abusive? Blowing? Pretend nothing is happening and batten down the hatches.

That's what really gets me. Everyone of your children (me and my sisters) have been desperately hurt, and are struggling in real life. Three of us have issues with tiredness related to IBS and ME/CFS. Three of us can't work at the moment. One is continually depressed. None of us can make our own decisions - for fear of getting it wrong. Why are we afraid of getting it wrong? Because we couldn't get anything wrong at home without our dad blasting us. Literally. We are shit scared of getting it wrong. We are all eager to please - but can't please the one person we've tried to. You.

You would come home and blow up the moment you walked through the door. You didn't have an evening paper. A slipper or shoe would come sailing through the air at me with a mouthful of anger and violence. I would duck and get out as quickly as I could. What had I done wrong? Nothing.

We would be sat around the table, and for no reason you would erupt. Arbitrarily, at random, without reason or logic. WHAM. You would raise your fist to your mouth as if you were using every piece of your will power not to knock us into next week (though you often threatened to do so). What's more we were supposed to be grateful for this - bollocks. Gee thanks dad for not knocking me into next week. Sorry I did nothing. Sorry it wasn't my fault. Sorry you want to erupt because you are a walking volcano. Sorry you feel so crap about yourself that you have to make everyone else miserable. No one else can have a nice time, because you are not having a nice time. So you have to pour misery, cynicism, pessimism, negativity, crapness all over everyone else's party.

I remember the only joke we were allowed as a family was that you were Eyore. With your own rain cloud. The only other time we were allowed to refer to your anger issue was that you were like Donald Duck in a strop. Making that sound that only Donald can. And when we did refer to Eyore or Donald - we had to do so in a oh so nice way - as if we were relating to a very sensitive three year old who will throw all of his toys out of his cot at any moment and have a tantrum.

Oh how I hated going on holiday with you. The first three days were just hell. If we had to put up tents - despair and fear. We all knew the score. You would be hell, blame me (anyone) for anything and everything. It was out fault, you would just blow your gasket. Nothing we could do. Nothing we could say. All pretend nothing was going on. Yet all of us would be being ripped apart. Once the tent was up, the same would happen over the first meal. The second. The third. The fourth. None of us dared do anything which may be perceived as being naughty - because we would be blasted with 10,000 volts to our very core if we did. Note that it was not you we hated, it was the violent outbursts of hate, anger, violence.

We were scared. Very scared. Scarred. Running sores down our insides.

Still think it's my fault we don't have a relationship?

Of course I have forgiven you - as much as I know how to -but that's not the point. The point is that you damaged us. No matter how much I forgive, the effects remain.

* I can't get things wrong -they have to be right. Because if I get them wrong I will feel the effects of canes across my legs, a voice telling me I'm thick, an eruption of anger way out of balance with what just happenned.

* I have to be in control at all times, otherwise someone may be able to dominate me like you did. That's very tiring and not nice for anyone who lives with me. It's why I've set up my own company, it's why I find it hard to settle in a church, it's why I'm aggressive when I drive, it's why I can't do things 50/50 with others - I have to be in charge or not really present.

* I can't empathise with others - because I am too focussed on protecting myself. This has a huge effect on my relationships with those that I love. Absolutely huge.

* I could go on all night.

When we speak all you want to do is talk about money, insurance, finance, church, career - as well as how bad things are, how bad health is (of people you know). It's like talking to Victor Meldrew on a bad day. You would like to talk about other things - but don't know how to. You can't relate at that level.

See - you blame me for our lack of relationship. But may I ask you - what is your relationship with my other sisters? Sister number one? Sister number two? Sister number three? Sister number four? And before you give a pat answer - think. How often do you see them? How often do they talk with you at a meaningful level? How often are you welcome at their house? And just in case you try and pretend something else (something which you and mum are past masters at) I talk with number's four and five a lot, and enough with number two to know full well what they think and feel.

They are all shattered. All grieving. All trying in the only way they know how to to get on in life. Yet almost all of them have no idea what they are battling with. They suspect but because of how we have been brought up they are not allowed to think what they want to. Yet the truth is they are damaged. Damaged by years of abuse. Abuse. Yes, abuse. No, not sexual. But verbally and physically. And that's the truth - whatever you may think.

Pfff. I'm in therapy because of you. I've struggled in my relationship with my wife because of you. I've struggled in my relationship with my daughters because of you. And I mean big time struggled. Almost ended in seperation leading to divorce. Argh. I can't write how I feel. It's too strong and painful.

And the difference between you and I? I'm addressing it. I'm willing to look at my pain. My hurt. My fears. My utter fear of rejection. My need for constant approval. My transference of my authoritarion father on any person in any form of authority or power. How I react to that. I'm willing to look inside of me, to recognise how I feel, what pain I've caused, how I've hurt others, how I feel on the inside. It's really really difficult. Very painful. seeing truth about myself, willing to take out and bring it into the light.. how I wish you had done that.

So. I'm taking responsibility for me. I'm working on me. Wanting to change and being willing to go to the difficult painful places in order to do so. Are you? Have you? Or will you continue to blame me for your inability to relate to not just me, but others too. After all, it's not everyone who gets banned from numerous supermarkets. Dad - that's just not normal.