Wildcat ...
"Regardless of who has my back... I am still exposed." When I read that, it brought tears to my eyes. I so get that! I lived most of my life that way. The good news? It can change. I'm finally at a place where there are times and places I feel fully safe. Not always, but often enough to heal.
I also identified with the "darkness" comment. I was also an abused kid and grew up to be like that myself. I spent years fearing my own darkness and part of my alcohol recovery centred around "no hitting" as well as "no drinking". That part of me shamed and terrified me. I had become the father I hated.
I grew up being angry and aggressive. Out of fear, I attacked first. Just as an abused dog will bite any hand that comes toward it, whether to stroke or strike, I was like that with people. Of course it didn't show on the outside ... I was a happy party girl. You just didn't cross me.
I guess in that way I can kind of identify with your father -- as I can identify with my own. My father beat us. Broken furniture, blood on the walls ... you know the scene, I'm sure.
Your willingness to sit with his spirit and to sort through the feelings is brave beyond words. My heart goes out to you.
I do believe, without doubt, that spirit lives on until the work is finished. When I found my brother dead, I sat with the body until the police, coroner, etc arrived. While I sat with him, I realized his body was empty, but the essence of who he was, his spirit, was there with me.
It wasn't some abstract idea, something I could choose to believe or not ... it was as real as wind in my face. You can't see or touch the wind either, but you certainly feel it. My brother's spirit was like that. It was his need to tell me he was okay where he was. Without that I don't know how I would have got past the experience. It was as if he knew that and was making sure I was okay before he left the room.
I still felt him around for a long while afterward. It was sad, but strangely comforting as well. Kind of like he was looking out for me, like I did for him when he was alive.
So yes, I believe your father [b]is[/b] with you. And I believe you are accepting that offer to heal.
Your words very much touch my heart. I don't know you, have only spent a short time here at the board, yet I identify so strongly with something about your posts.
I'm one of the lucky ones who has been able to heal past the rage of my father. As DL said, those wounds go deep. My father is currently dying of cancer, in pain, alone ... and I feel tremendous sympathy for him. I put a lot of effort into keeping in touch with him and offering comfort when I can.
That is so strange in light of the fear and hatred I carried for the man for so many years. What finally changed my view was some great counselling around family of origin work, my place in the family (caretaker), and how to reprogram my thinking to stop that knee jerk reaction to family.
Once I managed to realize that I was working on old, automated beliefs, I one day looked at my father and realized he was a frail old man. To be honest, Wildcat, my first thought was, "****, I could take him now in a fight!". That doesn't sound very positive, but it was powerful for me. He could no longer hurt me physically.
I extended that physical safety to mental safety. When he treated me badly, I told him not to do it. If he did it twice, I stopped speaking to him for a time.
There is no way for me to have a healthy dialogue with my father. He's now sick, depressed and still an alcoholic. I am reduced to communicating on his limited level. That sucks, but it has worked. Over time he's finally come to respect me. It's so weird to have the power shift to me. And it feels so rewarding to have that power and to not use it against him. It heals me every time I could do some "payback" to my father but choos
