It’s Never Black and White

Gosh it’s been ages since I wrote in this blog, I am embarrassed by it.  I don’t know why I have kept away for so long. I think in part it goes back to the feeling that I have nothing useful to say, that others put it so much better than I do.  I know that’s not true, of course I have a voice to add.  As a survivor of abuse I strongly believe in being as open & honest as possible so that others can understand what it’s like.  Anyway, I’m here now & that’s what is important.

I was sexually abused by my dad. I don’t know how old  I was when it started, I can’t remember a lot of the abuse, but it went on until I was 26 when I finally cut contact with my so-called family. I haven’t spoken to my father since then, except one brief conversation.  I am relieved to have him out of my life, I am relieved to be safe.  He fucked with my head so badly, aside from the sexual abuse.  Life is much better without him in it.

BUT – there’s always a “but” isn’t there – it’s not that simple, much as I wish it was.  The truth is – & this is not easy to admit – I miss him.  I miss the “good” parts of him, I miss having a dad, I miss his cuddles.  I still love him, he is my dad after all.  And it wasn’t all bad, most of my happy memories from childhood are of times spent with him.  I worshipped him as a child, positively idolised him.  He was an absent father for the most part, so the time I did spend with him was particularly special.  When he was around he would take me places & treat me like a princess.  He never used violence to abuse me, instead he abused me with love if that makes sense, so it’s taken me a long time to see him for what he is.

In spite of what he’s done I still love him.  I will never let him hurt me again but it makes me sad that I will never see him again.  I can’t get my head round that.  Can’t believe that he’ll never hug me again.  If he were to get ill or something, I wouldn’t know.  And when he dies it’s unlikely I’ll be able to go to his funeral due to the rest of my “family”.  It all makes me very sad.  I feel like I am grieving him already.

Yet at the same time as grief, there is anger.  My dad is a classic narcissist & sado-masochist.  He is unable to understand anyone else’s needs or wants except where they apply to him & his needs.  I was never an individual to him, but rather a vessel to pour his own needs & desires into.  He couldn’t see beyond himself.  He was unable to empathise with anyone else; he’d try to fake it but was unconvincing.  I believe in his own very warped, twisted way that he loves me as much as he’s capable of loving.  But he also repeatedly chose my step mother over me, telling me on several occasions that his wife came first.  So on top of the abuse there was abandonment.  Over the years he has hurt me so much with his betrayal of my love & my trust.  His is the worst betrayal because it was done in a loving way, so terribly confusing to me, both as a child & as an adult.


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