My problem statement

One of the first things my therapist has asked me to produce is a "problem statement" - a precis of what I believe my problem is. It is as follows;

My problem is that I fear those around me will treat me like my parents and school kids did. That is, that they will seek to dominate and abuse me. I have worked very hard to ensure that doesn’t happen, and am constantly on guard (defended). This is most obvious in my closest relationships – particularly my wife, and to a lesser degree my girls. It stops me from living in the moment. Instead I hide, escape and defend myself. I have used being “right” as a strong defence against my dad, the result being that when I get it “wrong” the guilt can be debilitating. Being wrong equates to catastrophe. I try very hard to get it right. I keep a tally of how much time I’ve spent, or, what I've done with my wife to both protect and justify myself or my position. I am not allowed to just be, or be me.

Help - I'm trapped!

I'm trapped. Trapped. Alone and trapped. Trapped by myself. Trapped by my past. I'm trapped. I can't get out. I can't do what I want. I do what I don't want to. I want to love my wife, but feel trapped by her. I want to live a fully life but am too trapped to be able to. I am trapped. Trapped by fear. Trapped by rejection. Trapped. Trapped..

I just feel trapped.. If my wife is in the house, and I am in the house, I feel trapped. I feel that I need to do something, be with her, do something for her, be there for her, be busy, do something. I can't allow myself to thing an original thought, feel an original feeling. I don't have any convictions, never mind the courage of my convictions.

Why? Who cares why - it sucks and is bloody awful. I want to be with my wife, and my wife can be soft and gentle towards me, yet I feel my insides rise up in fear. I can't do it. Trapped. Fear. Rejection. Insecurity. I am going to get it wrong.

These fears override every sane thought, every rational scheme. I recoil. I hide. I want to escape. I want to get out, get away, get some time and space for me.

It means I am living a shadow life. I life without me being in the centre. A life of fear - despite how it looks from the outside. I am not free to be me.

My wife is in the other room on the phone talking to her sister. So I now feel a bit of freedom to do what I want - except I am not. Half of me wants to go on the xbox - but I fear her reaction if I do. She may not say anything, but nevertheless she will convey her thoughts to me. Or I will read her body language. She can't stand the xbox for she feels it's pure escapism, and that she doesn't like the person I become whilst I am on it.

And that's typical. From the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep I am constantly on alert, constantly checking for my wife's reaction, reading her body language, not daring to step out of line. Not daring for me to be me..

I daren't be me. Even if I knew who I was - still I wouldn't. It can only be because of my bloody father. That inside I still have a boy who is scared stiff. Scared that he will come in and tell me off. That he will shout at me for no reason. I have to please him or else he will make my life hell. Miserable. Like a POW camp commander. I have no power, no movement, no freedom. I do what he wants me to do and when he wants me to do it. If I don't the consequences are too awful to think about. For it would mean utter crushingness.

I don't want to be like this. I don't want to live in a shadow land, without real choices, fearing my wife. And presumably my girls, and those I work with, and my friends and more... how crap is that? That such fear would hold me so tightly? In every respect.

Me. Consumed by fear, in every area of my life. The reality of that is pounding me like a storm tossed wave. Me. Consumed by fear. Fear of those who are closest to me. That they want to trap me. So they can't ask anything from me - they can't be needy. For if they are needy the life will be sucked out of me - and I must defend myself.

Fear.

Fear my wife will want me to move out. Fear that my girls will think I'm a shmuck. Fear that I will lose any remaining creditability. Fear. Fear prohibiting me from being me. Fear. Rancid fear. Gut wrenching fear. Paralysing fear.

FEAR. I DON'T WANT YOU IN MY LIFE! It's tantamount to shouting at my dad, "dad, I don't want you in my life".

Fucking bloody hell. My dad once again. Not only did I have to live through it the first time, I now realise that I have been living with him ever since. In my mind. In my insides. In every decision, every thought, every feeling, every defence, every relationship. Fear. Abuse. Anger. Control. Domination. Rejection. All birthed by my dad within me, a defenceless baby boy growing up into an adult.

FERAAER jkl

And the impact is not just on me, but on my wife, my girls, everything.

It's just not fair. Insiduous fear. Ingrained fear.

I don't have a life

It's been difficult for my wife and I over the last months, with highs and lows. It came to a head this last week when my wife said that although she understood that what I was struggling with was a result of my childhood, and that I was going to therapy to resolve, nevertheless it wasn't pleasant to live with. It was like living with a teenager who only wanted to do their own thing, couldn't emotionally connect and couldn't stand to be with her.

And she's right.

So we agreed that I would do my thing. I would sleep in the spare room, I wouldn't go for a walk with her every day, etc.

I am about 2-3 days in. And actually I've found it a lot easier. I get up, I go down stairs, have breakfast, then work out what I am going to do for the day. I've been to the gym, started decorating the dining room, I haven't been on a walk with her, I've been to the gym on my own..

And I've started to realise that I am living a shadow life. I don't have a life of my own. Everything I do from the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep is driven by my wife. Or rather driven by my fear of my wife. Yet it is not my wife who is at fault. She is soft, gentle, not harsh or dominating. It's my internal fears which drive this. As a result I am not initiating anything, I don't have my own mind, I don't do anything. Everything is always a reaction of what she is doing or not doing.

If she is watching TV I am free for as long as she watches it. If she is on her laptop, I can go on mine. If she is reading I can relax. But if she is just sitting there, or wants to do something, then I have to too. And it's exhausting. And I don't have my own life. The moment I want to do something for me I feel guilty.

What sort of life is that? I feel that she always wants me to do things with her. It's true that if she wants to see a friend, I have to take her. If she wants to see family, I have to take her. If she wants to go into town, I have to take her and tag along with her. If she wants to go for a walk, I have to go with her. If she wants a drink, in fact do anything, it's me she does it with.

Now that's not right either. It's not balanced. And I feel that I do it for two reasons. The first being that I owe her for the years I've not been there, and secondly I guess because I now feel guilty. Maybe they are the same.

Could it be that when we first got married we weren't like this. But we became like this for lots of reasons;
1. We were Christians which implied a sense of expectation of what married life would be like. We had to be perfect at it - so we did everything together.
2. My background, set by my parents/church also defined very clearly what we should be like. For me getting married was a form of salvation from my parents.
3. My wife didn't get an emotional connection from me - she would say when our second was born. As a result she tried harder and harder to get one from me- in the end trying to get it by wanting to spend more time with me?
4. My wife became more and more starved of life in the sense of her doing what she was created to, as well as looking after children which was tough for her - especially whilst carrying round her mum with her which she has been sorting in therapy. At one point she lost all her confidence and relied heavily on me to help her get to places. Therefore, in a sense, her only hope became me - and in part I was able to help by taking her places. Did this lead to some sort of dependency?
5. The longer we were married, and certainly when my second daughter was born suddenly I was confronted with need - much in the same way as I was when I grew up - my sisters and mum needing me. The reminder was too strong which caused me to put even bigger barriers and defences..

The end result is where we are now.

I also realised the other day, and I think I wrote about it, that I have created a "safe zone" during childhood which I retreat to when I feel under attack of any kind. And I feel under attack from my wife. No sex. She cried on our wedding night when she saw my dick. That kind of started something I think.. She felt physically sick everytime I went anywhere near her. Making love to her was like making love to cardboard. She detested it, detested me? It has changed over the years, but she has always said that there was something wrong with me. Not my capability - not that at all - but something else that has made her feel like, at times, a prostitute, a lump of flesh.. she would put it down to a lack of emotional connection.

She was mentally very clear and lucid, in fact her intelligence was her defence. She could argue anything - though never maliciously. She was always pointing out things that I had done wrong. I couldn't plan holidays - for they were never right. She wanted adventure and travel, I wanted rest and relaxation. I would try and arrange something with the girls, but it wouldn't be practical. Then she would arrange cycling, and I'd be left with the youngest one at five - who didn't want to cycle and was a complete mare.. not much fun that..

So as I look back, even casually, there has been a lot wrong. Or rather a lot to contend with. A lot of issues which have never been resolved. And as I write this I feel my insides starting to churn thus proving I am touching on deep and painful areas. I fear the churn - for it saps my energy. Yet I must feel it, allow it to have it's free course, for it is only by such manner that I can be freed from it. "The thing about a feeling is that it needs to be feeled before it can go".

So. I don't have a life for I am living in fear of.. what? My wife? In a way yes, for I fear that she will reject me. But ultimately it must be that I fear my dad.

New therapist - old hurts

So. I am pushing my wife away again as I feel that she is needing me. She needs me to take her to visit her friends. She needs me to go walking with her. She needs me if she wants to go into town. She needs me if she wants to go and see her family.

And I do all of that.

Then, she tells me that I am not emotionally connected. That we are not doing anything together. I hear this as "she wants more". And I tailspin. She then tells me that I am not doing x & y. or this and that. And my insides go into meltdown.

And yet I know she is soft. She is not my parents. And yet I react to her as if she were. I need to escape. I am with her all day - or at least it feels that way.

So anyway - I can't do this on my own, nor can I do it with my wife, so I've started to see a new therapist - Valerie. I saw her for the first time yesterday - and she is very different to my last therapist. She wasn't on some kind of power game, was down to earth, put me at my ease.. completely unlike my last therapist - which is good. I see her again next week.

I basically feel like I just want to cry. And cry. And yet I find it so difficult. There's been a couple of leaked tears over the last couple of days, but I still can't go to that place. My insides are boiling, reverberating, twisting, alive, telling me all is not well.

When the therapist mentioned in passing that she has done a lot of work with victims of abuse within the family setting I wanted to cry there and then. And yet I don't really believe I was abused - yet clearly I was.

And so, here I am, wanting to escape from my wife whilst not wanting to be rejected by her. I know I love her, and I know that she wants the best for me. And yet I want to escape, dread the sense of duty I still feel, the entrapment that she can't do anything without me.

What do I do? For I am hurting her by being with her, and hurting her when I pull away. When I am with her I hurt myself, and I feel safer when I am away.

Even just saying any of this to her is a no-no. I realise that I learnt very early on to that I was safe provided I stayed within a safety zone defined and dictated by my dad. If I stepped out of that for any reason it meant catastrophe. So I didn't, ever. Too dangerous.

My wife has now moved away from me, as she has done her therapy - and her zone is not longer aligned to mine. And as a result relating to her is dangerous. She wants me to do things which are not within my safety zone, such as.. relate at an emotional level.

Crap and bollocks.

Emotions - and my crap father

Last weekend my wife told me she didn't trust me with the company, and getting her half of the money. She had realised that she had no control by me not selling the company - and that was too difficult a proposition for her to handle. She wanted the money asap. For me it rang alarm bells, making me feel like I'd failed. Catastrophe. For 24-36 hours I was a walking trauma victim. We worked it out by Monday night/Tuesday. On the Monday I went to the gym which helped - and I lifted a lot of weights. But then Tues-today I've felt worn out and exhausted again.

Only now I know it's not the gym - it's the emotional roller coaster I'm on. It's as if something happens in our relationship and I feel a sense of impending doom, literally as if we are at catastrophic status. My insides turn to mush, twisting..

I took my wife to see my youngest sister find a wedding dress on Thursday. It's about one hour twenty minutes away. Only there was a traffic jam five miles from her house which added another hour. I was doing this for my wife, not for my sister. I'd been trying to work out what I would do - but as it turned out the shops were out of town so I just parked and waited. Then my wife was due to meet with a friend a further half hour away. I was going to see her brother in law who I get on with, but he wasn't going to be in. So then I thought I'd see an old school mate who I hadn't seen for 18 years. Then my wife couldn't meet with her friend - so I felt a bit used. Like I was just a taxi service. My sister was negative, didn't want to go wedding dress shopping (she's way overweight).

We'd talked on the way down about our relationship - what's it like to see friends, not see friends, holidays - I can't remember which but the end result I was feeling emotional stirred, then we sat in the queue for an hour only moving 1/2 mile - which still presses a button for me. Realised that being in a car with my dad used to be terrible. If it was just the two of us - it was both an opportunity to have some time with my dad, but also an opportunity to be blasted. Like being in a POW prisoner camp. The worst place to be with no control whatsoever.

So basically the day was pretty tough. I did end up seeing my mate - which was good - for forty minutes as we needed to get back for our girls. But it was tough.

Friday we didn't do anything - and I did some work.

Yesterday my wife wanted again to see her friend. Originally she was going to go shopping in Manchester - what was I going to do? Then she decided to visit her friend at her home (just under 2 hours away) which meant I could go to her brother in laws..

By the time I got back last night I just needed to escape. Turn off.

And now. Now I feel like I want to cry. I have a Hillsong CD on (This is our God).

So, I feel really crap. My guts are squirming as if filled with worms. I have a slight throat ache which interrupts my sleep. The impact is that physically I feel blah... Historically I would have thought it was because I'd stayed up too late, watched something I shouldn't have or whatever. I.e. it was because I'd done something wrong. NOW I realise that no, it's not that at all, it's a reaction to how it was when I was little. And the pain is still in there. And it's horrible, horrible, horrible.

What is it?

Dad. No power. Crushed. The glare. The brooding silence. The clear communication that it was my fault. Nowhere to hide. Isolation. How was it that with just one look I would be so crushed. So rejected. The power he had over me was unbelievable. I fear it even now. I can see it my mind's eye. Often the glare would accompany a one word instruction. "In". "Get in". That was if I was with a friend, or friends. It would mean get in the car. Get into the concentration camp. The POW camp. Lose all my freedom, and live in the same room as the all powerful sadistic mean vicious angry irrational violent man - and yet that doesn't do the feeling I have justice. It's deeper than that - and I know I've written about it before.

Being in the car with dad was like torture. One minute maybe talk about something (I craved his attention) - and yet the next he'd be moody. Maybe cut up by someone or whatever. If we were late he'd speed. We sped everywhere. Trips from the North West to the far reaches of the North East. Three hours each way for a church meeting. Me knowing he would ask me to testify, pray or whatever. Me bricking my pants. The only way to get his favour was to do what he wanted - which was to be part of his calling.

And even in the car I would get the look. I can't believe he taught me to drive - though I know I had no choice. But it was like being with the abuser - teaching you to drive - all the whilst abusing me. The uncontained toxic anger.

ANGER. Directed at me. The murderous look in his eyes and face. It was as if he thought I was threatening him. How could I? How could I possibly threaten him? And yet, there it was, so he would give me a look that said he wished I wasn't there. Somehow. I can't explain it. The effect of it was as if he'd fired a tank missile at me. And I realise now it wasn't just the look, it was the implied threat that came with it. The "If you don't do whatever it is that I am telling you to do now, then I will knock you into next week, literally." And that's what I feared.

So, from a very early age I feared my dad. And not in any good way. In a frightened, desperately frightened child way. In a way that there was no good thing about it. IN a way that no child should feel frightened. There was no sense of safety, of protection, of resting, of chilling. No - being with my dad was the complete opposite. I never knew when he was going to fire his missile into my insides. Presumably it was whenever he felt bad - he needed to blame someone else. Oh, the nearest person appears to be Mark. It matters not he is three years old. RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Child cowers, no one protecting him. He stands in the full blast of the roar. No where to run. No where to hide. If I question it, the roar will become teeth. I will be eaten alive.

Fuck that, do whatever he wants and do it quickly. It's far too dangerous to think of doing anything that dad doesn't want me to - for he will roar. And that's bad. So what does dad want me to do? I'll go and do that. I can't play, mess around, be silly, be daft, choose my girlfriends, choose what I want to believe, get angry, get emotional, challenge him (laugh). No. None of that.

Bollocks and crap and fucking fuck. What a codswallop way of parenting. The poor Mark. Didn't have a chance - and as such it's amazing, grace, that he has done so well.

Still so much to work through

I seem to making such good progress on the one hand, and yet there is still what seems like a myriad of stuff to sort and resolve.

I'm going to the gym and going for long walks regularly - which is great. I'm feeling a lot fitter, without being exhausted which is great.

I've made a decision to not sell the company, and instead help to drive greater revenue and profits. I feel good about that.

I've faced the reality of some of the bad decisions I made as Managing Director which resulted in losses. That was a bitter pill to swallow - and am currently working that one through.

I feel I am less defensive towards my wife - so that when she wants to talk about an issue I am not as guarded. Generally speaking. And that's really positive. As a result we've had what she would perceive as deeper conversations. The downside is that she feels that I would not move forwards if it were not for her constant probing. I.e. she's my therapist - so that started a conversation about whether I should be seeing a therapist.

I met up with my next oldest sister last week. We went out for a drink and a meal. Six hours later she left. She is overweight, more relaxed than I thought she'd be (she is on 30mg of antidepressants), and fairly open. The big question is do I actually want to see her again..

I also had a long chat with my mum the week before, and agreed to meet up. I was, by my standards, very honest..


However - the stuff still to work through;

I am still very defensive. My wife tells me I will DO anything, but having an emotional connection with her is something I find very difficult - primarily because we never emotionally connected when I was being brought up. Thus the tendency to refer to "the parents" or "the sisters" rather than my mum and dad, or my sister.

My wife realised today that she is still very unhappy. She has no choices now that I have decided not to sell the business. So she's suddenly feeling trapped again with no control. Bloody hell. Just what I need. She says we may need to sell this house we've spent a fortune on (because she wanted to), not get anywhere near what it's worth in order to buy a small house/flat where we live for the girls during the week and then allow us to buy a farm with say 20 acres some 30-40 minutes away.

This really attacks my sense of reality and optimism. I have realised in the last week or so that my optimism was my defence against my dad's constant negative cynicism. As I start to face reality, I.e. with my business, I can no longer rely on my defence that everything would be ok. Everything was possible. That impacts me with my wife, and her dream of owning a farm and land. I can't pretend that I can just magic up over £1m for her to do so. The company is going to take a long time to grow, and I now have two other directors to consider.

So how ever much I may not like it, and may want to put my head in the sand, my wife feels trapped and wants to have the money to buy a farm. That may mean we need to sell this house :( and NOT get the value we deserve from the £200k we've spent on it. We may have to borrow up to the gills to be able to do it, and I would have to work harder to ensure we can pay it.

I feel as if all of the pressure on making it happen is on me. I have to find a buyer for her half of the company, or we have to sell this house and then I'd have to make it work for my wife and the girls in terms of schooling.

She feels like we live in a village she's bored of. She doesn't know people. The usual story basically. And bollocks to it. It always means I have to do something. She claims she would never let me be this unhappy, that she would have done anything possible to ensure my happiness. So, here is a load of guilt I want you to wallow in. She says that I never listen to her, and never am willing to do what it takes.

Bollocks to that too - for I was willing to move to Bolton (I mean, Bolton), when we lived down south. I was willing to buy this house and let her spend a fortune. Once we'd barely started she was unable to do it by herself, so I had to project manage the build, manage the architect etc. etc. Then she was unable to have the builders in, so I had to manage that. All the time I have to manage what she can't. But at the same time she tells me that I am not caring for her, not willing to do anything.

Bollocks.

I know that I am defended. I know that I still have more stuff to work through. I know that, and I am willing too. Right now I have decided that I would go to a therapist, but I don't want to impact my wife too much. Should we both do therapy again together?? It's bloody hard work. SO DON'T BLOODY TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE.

If she buys a farm some 40 minutes away, I would have to drive her everywhere.

This is why I still need to go to therapy - for I have no idea what is right, what is balanced, what is love. Is love denying myself, doing everything for my wife? Would she really be able to do a farm by herself? No. I don't think she would. Not until she has built up a group of people to help her. And yet how would she do that? The occasional weekend maybe. But not day in day out. Plant a forest. Composting toilets. An eco campsite. What is it that she wants? Does she really want to escape like her parents do? Go and live in a secluded place because people aren't that nice? Oh she'd say she wants a team, a sense of community. But if you can't do that where you live, how on earth are you going to do that in a rural location? Friends and family are not the answer.

So if my wife told me she had found the farm of her dreams - what would I do? My defenses would say DO everything to help her. But in reality -it would take over my life too. I don't think she's ready myself. Not until she can get on a train, a bus, get in a taxi, have local friends without it being a big issue/deal. Build a sense of balanced right Independence from me.

So, right now, when all is said and done, there is no way it's right for her to buy a farm right now. So what's the issue? She must know that too, on her insides, so.. what's the issue. Why does she feel the need to press now? Control? Freedom? Trapped? They are all horrible emotions. Why does she feel those now? Because I am keeping the company? Because I still have a way to go myself? Because she doesn't feel safe with me? Because she is not happy with the level of relationship we both have? Because, she's not happy. Feels trapped. And somehow it's my fault.

Big question therefore is, how can I help her? Can I help her? Am I able to? Or am I too 'contaminated'? Too close? What am I responsible for? What am I not? I know that I have big defenses still to work through. I have to be in control of my life or otherwise my dad will come crashing down on me - I know that - and am working through it, and willing to see a therapist about it.

Can I just be soft and gentle? Ask her basic questions. What does she want? Deep down? How can I help her with that? Not the farm, that's a surface thing. But deep down. The trouble is I fear the answers. I fear that I will be to blame. Will I be able to handle it? And that's a $60bn question.

Yet I want to.....

Should I book a therapy session for this week?

And where am I in all of this??

Living with a harsh judge...

As my wife and I discussed holidays last night, which is always a difficult subject, I started to feel that inner rising of emotion that normally would push me to stop the conversation..

Holidays have never really worked for us. My wife can't "just go" on holiday and relax. She has always needed to do something, travel.. she can't just sit on a beach or sit in a five star hotel and soak up the sun. She would get bored within one day and be a miserable so and so.

Meanwhile, she claims that I switch off when on holiday. I go into escape mode..

The two are diametrically opposed.. and it has caused a lot of heartache for both of us.

So, there we were. Do we go to a villa in Italy (my wife is currently unable to fly)? Do we go by train (she can't currently do that, but really wants to) to somewhere like Morocco? But even the thought was stressful. I started looking at villas, and thought, no, she wouldn't like that, no she would hate that, no she would be bored there.. .but worse that bored. Anxious. She'd drill down into her self. Get into her barrel and start running. It would go downhill. I think I then react to her, and go into escape mode as there is nothing I can do to change it.. that then makes her worse.. and yeah. It doesn't work.

As she thought about the holiday too she got stressed...

So. Normally I would have stopped the conversation as I knew it was causing internal wranglings, but I stayed with it. And wham! It hit me..

Why was it that it mattered so much whether a holiday was good or not (apart from the obvious). It's because I fear my dad's judgement. I fear that he will look at it, and judge it, crushing everyone inc me in the process.

Then I realised that this is what I fear in every department of my life. A holiday is a public thing - and outward and visible expression, and thus subject to dad's judgement. And my dad judges everything he can see. Verbally. With his face. With his mood. I found it utterly crushing as a child. He would judge my friends, people on the TV, people in the church. So I fought so very hard to ensure that whatever it was that I cared about would not get that judgement. It had to be perfect to ensure it wasn't judged.

And thinking about this I realised that it wasn't me that needed it to be perfect, it was because I feared my dad's judgement. With one look he would wither it on the vine. Pronounce it useless. Defect. Demonic. Evil. Worthless. So I would fight to ensure that the thing or person I cared about acted or looked in such a way such that my dad would not make is evil judgement.

My wife. My daughters. Church. Work. Me..

Oh God. As I realised this I cried. Sobbed. From deep within. I realised how much of every part of my life has been subject to this fear that this person who lives forever on my shoulder ready to judge whatever it is that I feel passionate about worthless. Crap. Fuck off.

My wife on our honeymoon. My wife in our marriage - she has to be perfect so that my dad doesn't pronounce this awful judgement on her, I don't want that for her, so she needs to act or do or be something to ensure it doesn't happen. NOW I realise that that's crap. But I'm forty!

Even the house - have I done all the work to the house to ensure that there is nothing he can point to and say "that's wrong". Et voila - that's another component of the right/wrong thing I struggle with so much. It's not my right/wrong. It's that I fear that my dad will point, say it's wrong and give me a lifelong judgement.

I mean why? Why did he feel the need to judge my friends when I'd bring them home. Even when I was married? Why? Why? Why? You selfish miserable git. Now I realise, as I've stopped seeing my dad, that I am still carrying this childish version of my dad on my shoulder who I fear will still judge.

And that's got to stop. From now. Dad, this person that sits on my shoulder, based on my childhood fears, you still stop and desist. You will get the fuck out of here. Out of my life. I don't want you, you are nothing good or lovely. There is nothing redemptive about you. So fuck off. Get lost. I don't want you in my life, in my space, in my family. Get!

I was really encouraged though that I was able to go to this place, work it through with my wife listening, cry, sob, get angry, feel and communicate it. I think it's a powerful thing that I've never seen before in this context.

So now, what I want to do is to live my life without that judging shadow on my shoulder. I can relax because he is not there. I don't have to fear that my family, nor ME, will be judged in that way. Clearly there is still more work to be done in this area - but I'm encouraged nevertheless..

So - the final thing I realised was that I am scared stiff that he will make a judgement and pronounce it on my life. As a result I work hard on creating a layer which is acceptable to him. As such there are two of me, the real me, and the me that I work hard at presenting to my dad to make me more acceptable.

How crap is that? So. Firstly, my dad is not there in judgement. He doesn't mean to be, but even if he is he doesn't have that power over me. Secondly, I can lay down the performance identity. I can just be me, and relax. No one is judging me.

No one is judging me.

Sigh. Deep. No one is judging me. I am not in a spotlight, with a judge waiting for me to get it wrong, who will then pronounce judgement. God is not like that. And my image of dad is not doing that, and has no power over me.

No one is judging me.

That means I am free. I am free to be me. I can be me without fear of judgement. I can walk anywhere I please, do anything I please, think anything I please without fear of judgement. I can spend my time doing anything I please. I am free...

If I'm running there is no one watching me. If I am in a meeting, or talking to my daughters. There is no one watching me. If I am taking photos, or writing, or fishing. It matters not where I place, how good I am, it doesn't matter. For the only person who is really interested in that is me. Not my dad. Not a loveless harsh judge..

No one judging me. Meaning I am FREE!