If anyone has been keeping current with my journey to stop the cycle of emotional abuse and incest with me and my children, I can honestly say that I am getting the help I know I need.
My abuser-my father-has had a relationship with me that HAD to be a molester’s dream: a daughter with a kind heart, willing to believe the best in anybody. Repeatedly, after multiple evidence to the contrary. I trusted him and my mom to keep my kids, under the grounds that he is never alone with them (God help me, I hoped so until this last year!) and he was truly sorry for the damage he has caused me. I sent them food to their house every month with my food stamps, thinking God would bless me for “turning the other cheek.” I sent them pictures, sent pictures on Facebook-and hated myself for a coward and a liar, knowing in my heart that if he died, I’d have to pretend to be numb, since my joy would be inappropriate.
I quit. I’m not even close to speculating how I’ll deal with him, but I DO know that he committed his crime again because he felt no repercussion and excused himself on the fact that everybody has secret demons and he’s just honest about his.
He just sent me a text-my father-wishing me well. I left his house yesterday, actually found that the women’s shelter here in my city had a vacancy through my pastor’s wise counsel, bless him! I moved in after almost backing out at the last minute.
I saw the women, the kitchen, the books and toys, the chore lists and daily progress goal sheets; furniture for group meetings, office, rule sheets and the security system. I saw my and my kids’ room, the washroom-and broke down at the playground. The place is fenced in, and I couldn’t imagine my children fenced in because I got to talking too much on a blog and dragging out old hurts and old misery, and looking at too many sad stories and reading too much “self-help” crap. NOW look what you’ve done, idiot! You put up with your bastard father 18 years and now you’re going to RUN and be checked in and patted down and live with a CURFEW? This is BETTER? My mind screamed. I thought of my kids’ faces, unhappy and condemning because they were being yanked up like carrots out of a vegetable garden AGAIN by crazy, unstable, sleepy, lazy Mama that didn’t feed them or give them snacks or buy them toys or take them in the car when she didn’t have one 3 or 4 times, not like Granny and Papa. And I couldn’t do it. I told the lady I would sign Departure papers, leaving then, before I committed us here when I had already caused so much instability to them.
Then I cried. I saw all the depression and misery and woe, bitterness, regret, and rage, the pills, the cigarettes, the sex, the prostitution, the tears and silence and fear, manipulation, lectures, and HELL I’ve been through. And then I thought of what I would be saying if I didn’t stay here, at this shelter, amongst help and therapy and opportunity and validation. What I’d reeeaaallly be saying.
That it wasn’t that bad, really. I hadn’t suffered, I was just making a big deal out of nothing. I was actually just fine, just acting like being molested 5 times again at 29 again after running away at 19 with a manipulator just like my father, just broke and near-used up by his own devils after being beaten daily by his own father was some huge SIN or CRIME, not like it didn’t happen to other people every day almost, who lived their lives just fine and didn’t pop pills and sleep all day and blame their mothers and fathers who fed them, clothed them, took them on trips, and spent time with them and bought them treats. They should be forgiven. I mean…
The same thing that made me crazy every day I waited for a way out and PRAYED for a way out was trying to stop me. If I could move out with the last jackass that dumped us off at that hell for a “love” that smelled like fish that’s sat in malt vinegar and the hot sun and marinated 3 weeks, I could DEFINITELY move us to a shelter and get my OWN DAMNED HELP. I’d TRIED it my kids’ way, my parents’ way, and God’s way-and my father was still a molester and a pervert! If my heart told me not to trust him, I should listen to it more, apparently.
So I’m here, 2 days now. I am happy, and getting counseling from a counselor and signing up for a therapy position as soon as possible (I’ll put that on my Goal List, lol). I haven’t answered my father’s text-it doesn’t deserve or REQUIRE an answer. His last words were to “Behave myself.” The snake! Poisonous pervert! Bastard! Fake phony! Who told HIM to Behave himself and keep his damned hands off me?!? Who was he to claim the right to father me when he drove me out of the house AGAIN? For the same reason? No more!
I want to thank the people on this blog who have helped me find courage and worth, and I will keep posted as I have time. I am tentative about finding a job, but I don’t believe that God will sentence me to live like trash for following His Word so closely as I could, through all my suffering, to forgive and honor my molester and his enabler. I forgave my dad enough to believe he could change, and getting abused again was all it got me. I WILL save my children-I will NOT repeat the cycle. I will not drink poison anymore while the sonofabitch that drove me to it by LOVE, my own father, says it was all my own idea and he had nothing to do with nothing, apparently, I was in trouble because I was following the “wrong crowd,” just being rebellious. Poisonous. Trifling scum.
It is not God’s Will that anyone be molested or abused by ANYONE, especially by family. See the Book of Leviticus. It has come up in my counseling and thoughts more and more often lately.
With God’s help and support, I am growing to understand that I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY PARENTS. I can love them from a distance. The way they “love” my little sister, rotting in jail because she tried to escape them. They’re no good to me, themselves, and DEFINITELY not my children; they abused their parental position to all of us, and we still honor them, my siblings and I. I will not allow it anymore. My goal is to cut him out of my life and especially my kids’ lives, for their safety and MENTAL stability. If God wants something different, He’ll have to show me. I’m willing and crazy enough to listen with an open mind and a trusting heart, anyway. Svshak v’amantz.