That is a direct quote from a conversation with my father today. He continued…me… and that’s where I cut him off. I don’t like talking about his abuse towards me, his emotions and verbal abuse that continues to this day, when he’s in one of his “moods”. I have all been “ordered” to call him everyday. And I’ve explained to him that some days I just can’t. But he ignores that.
What frustrates me the most is I want to be angry with him, I want to hate him. And sometimes I am and sometimes I do, but really how can I be furious with a frail old man laying in a bed in a nursing home, unable to get himself to the bathroom, who has lost a leg, who is as helpless as I was when he abused me?
And the other thing is that Christ calls me to forgive him. But I don’t know what Christian forgiveness looks like. I need to do research. Does it mean I’m not angry anymore? Does it mean that I don’t have resentment to him? Does it mean the little girl that still is hurting inside me is healed and happily skips away? Because I honestly don’t see that happening. That little girl was beaten, bruised, ridiculed, (at home and school), she wasn’t protected, she was left to hurt and cry alone. I don’t want to share any of this with him. He’s too mentally ill to even understand the magnitude of what he did to me. He understands he was awful to me, but I don’t think he truly understands how he has affected my life all this time.
Something else today made me realize today as I was listening to an audiobook that I leave my friends before they can hurt me. If they start getting too close I pull away, so that they can’t hurt me and reject me. It’s not fair, I’m automatically assuming that they are going to hurt me. I’m assigning feelings, emotions, and actions they haven’t yet done and may never do. I’m so messed up.
Please tell me I’m not alone…