Dad - his anger, again

Bleargh.

What to think.

Am I bored? Do I want to spend lots of time with my wife? Can I really be bothered to do odd jobs around the house or would I rather earn more money to pay someone else to do it? Do I feel like my wife is like my sister when I was young? Namely my shadow? Am I scared of her frustrations because they remind me of my dad's emotions - which I can't handle even to this day? Do I feel down because I've been doing therapy for a year, and I've still got stuff to sort? Fed up of swinging emotions, in fact scared too. Will I get down? Will I gain some motivation to actually do anything outside of selfishness?

I'm not free. Not free to go fishing. Not free to read. Not free to do as I please. I have responsibilities, and a wife at home 100% of the time. She wants to move on and start some kind of farm/estate enterprise. Wants to sell the business to finance it. Selling the business won't give her the cash she would need, and so I'd have to work. Either at the farm, or something else. It would take more money than we'd have. I'd be stressed, working at something I probably wouldn't want to. All to please my wife so that she can try and find herself.

Why can't I sell the business and enjoy life? No debts. Work at what I want. Go where we want. Support what we want, holiday where we want, do what we like? Invest in other business, anything. Enjoy life and see what God has for us.

Why do we need to do a farm? I don't want to do a farm. Yet my wife can't seem to be able to do it on her own. I would support her, but does that mean being available 100% of the time? 75% of the time? 50% of the time? 25%? What? I don't know.

And that's the problem. And that's what is getting me down. I don't know. I don't have any answers. Just problems, questions, uncertainties with nothing solid to stand on. If I don't support my wife, my wife will be very hurt and feel stabbed in the back. If I try and support my wife, I run into my dad. My old templates. I'm still working those through - but it means I can't move forwards. I can't trust my emotions, my desires, my thoughts, my feelings. They sway back and forth, up and down like a yo-yo.

And it's maddening. Frustrating. Upsetting. Getting me down. I can't do anything. My wife gets upset, but I can do nothing. I'd rather play on the xbox for two hours, go out fishing with a friend. Doing anything takes real drive - drive that I just don't have.

This morning I spent an hour cutting the grass. We then sat down for lunch which my wife made and she tells me that I can't handle other people's emotions. What does that mean? Care to elaborate? Care to be soft to me and understand that I too am going through a testing patch? Nope. Silence. I can't handle it. I feel that I am always the one who breaks the deadlock. I get her to talk, then she batters me for half an hour. I have no defence. She is right in almost all she says, and the areas she's not are not worth raising. But how alike is this to when I was at home with my dad? Bollocks. I don't know. Is it right for me to speak up even if it's not important, or may be wrong? She always seems so right - yet how can it always be 100% my fault. Surely this is just my old template yet again.

CRAP. It's like standing on a rounded lump of lard. What shall I do? I try and stand up to decide only to land on my rump. The only safe choices for me (my little side?) is to do things on my own, or away from my wife. Doing them with my wife is far too difficult. It brings up difficult subjects, the moment she disagrees with anything I say or do (which is frequent) I cave in on the inside. Prepare myself for the inevitable beating.

And my insides are twisted. I can feel them thus pointing to the deep and dark emotions I am harbouring. So, as my therapist would say, allow myself to feel them. Where are they? What do they look like?

Where are they? They are in my groins as normal. Twisting, like a year ago, like when I am dealing with deep emotions that I haven't twigged yet.

Ok - focus on them. Let myself feel them.. They are really deep. Full on. My mind doesn't understand them.

What do they look like? Dark and big. Like big waves on the sea. Large, overwhelming. No escape. Brutal, forceful, dangerous, mean, angry, no way out, no way to escape, tortuous, mean, pushing me, pressing me into a corner, no way out, mean, nasty, vicious, no way to escape, forced backwards, unfathomably mean, wicked, evil, no mercy or grace or anything nice or warm, just pure black pain coming after me.

Ring any bells?

Yes. Of course. My dad again. I have a feeling that that is how I felt when I was at home as a little boy, and my dad came for me. I felt as trapped and scared as I would if I was at the behest of the adjectives described above. Pure unrestrained anger pouring out it's death right into my soul. I was so scared. Wanted to run away but couldn't. Wasn't allowed to. There was no escape. There was no defence, nothing to hide behind. Certainly not mum. Couldn't run because he was faster, and the act of running made the anger worse. Any sense of defiance was met with instant retribution. There was no escape. Nowhere to run or hide. This was my dad. My dad the fire breathing dragon who would slay me at his whim and fancy.

You poor little boy. No one should have to endure that. That was wrong, despicable, you poor little mite.

Ow the pain. That really hurts. So deep within me, which as I look at have vague memories or echoes of what it was like. Unbridled anger directed directly at me. Why? What had I done? Nothing. And yet there my dad is, raising his fist as if to knock me into next week. Threatening me with the same verbally. I'm small, a boy, five, six, eight, ten. He's a grown man, my hero, threatening to knock me into next week as his fists are pulled back ready to strike, and in the end he bites his fist and puts it through the door.

I am left in a state of shock, fear.. completely unable to process what just happened other than it happened before, and will happen again. My mum tells me he loves me really, and that he doesn't mean it, and to ignore it for it will all blow over.. Inside I'm .. what? crushed. how can this be? what i have done? like being taken to the executioners chair, for the switch to be pulled and no electric to come out and yet still be sat in the chair. What are you supposed to think? Am I saved? Will it happen again? Am I supposed to be relieved or in shock?

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL OR THINK NOW? My mum tells me to ignore it. My insides are melted by fear because my hero just blew a blow torch into my innards.

So how do I feel when I remember the feelings of how I felt in the moment of dad's greatest anger?

He was in my face, totally dominating me, and I felt terror. Fight or flight, and not able to do either. Either would make it worse, so so so much worse. Why what would he have done? Lost it completely, and literally knocked me into next week. With his fists. That's what I feared. That one day he really would knock me our with those big fists. They were huge compared to me, and strong and powerful and I had no defence. What could I do? I couldn't do anything.

Damn that hurts. And it's deep. And even as I remember what it was like, it's hits me in waves of pain. The freshness of the wound, the deepest cut, the terror and fear, the unbelief and shock that this was really happening, the confusion that this was my dad - MY DAD, my my my my my dad. The one who was supposed to protect me, look after me, be my hero - and yet here he was frightening me, hurting me, damaging me. The world was a safer place than being with my dad. And yet somehow I knew that being with my dad was supposed to be the safest place. If I was unsafe with my dad, where was I going to find safety?

It seems so unfair to have to go through this twice. The first time was bad enough. Then to have lived with it all my life thus far is also bad enough. But to have to revisit the emotions - ghakljklasjfasf kl;asf jaklsdf asf jasdf jasdfj f jaskf jasf j there are not words to describe that. Unfair. Anger. sdddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddkllllllllllllllllllllllll ddddddddddddddddcvcccccccccccccccccc

Soo... if I've been typing for at least thirty minutes then I've been feeling for at least thirty minutes. Is that enough? I still feel the deep movements, almost like I'm carrying a baby much in my groins rather than my tummy. I guess it will have to be for now - but I still feel the pain..