Good Morning Bloggers…

Thank you Julie, just read your post and made me think. I was so trained to smile and trudge forward, it never occurred that I could hide from all this. My self worth was so low, I found myself married to an alcoholic. The Drama and pain was very comfortable for me. I look back now and realize just how damaged I was back then. 

Yes, you can love and loathe a person. I tried to get my fathers life, but I can’t. Just as people say to me,  “I can’t image how you grew up”. No you can’t, but I can’t imagine the family that created my father.
I have a son, who I Love very much. But, more importantly, I Really Like Him. His life has not been easy. He went to school with all his classmates learning about his grandfather in criminal justice class. He is learning to not worry about the ugly people we share this world with. The man I am married to today is many if the things I was missing. I am safe and happy. My son and husband are very funny when then both agree to do something because they know it will make me happy.I love them so very much. I like not being afraid everyday.

We move forward and can gladly say that none of us are continuing to bear the violence of our Father. We are not carrying that ugliness into our future’s. I sometimes read the newspaper or watch the news and realize there are many Damaged people out there. This is very upsetting to me. I pray that no one is in my childhood home. If they are please help them to be strong and live to be able to make there own choices. Also,  give themselves a break, it is a long recovery.

Hope everyone enjoys Today.



6 thoughts on “Good Morning Bloggers…

  1. Hi again Christin,

    Apologies in advance for being so long winded on your blog. πŸ™‚ I s’pose rarely can I speak about an issue that I number one feel comfortable doing in this medium and secondly doing it with a person who ‘gets it’.

    Your comment about being ‘ trained’ got me thinking, because I too would put on my “happy face” outside the home, it was akin to slipping into a costume and putting on a performance, although I wasn’t aware that’s what I was doing at that time. Nobody trained me as such, I did it myself but WHY exactly did I do that I wonder? Was it a form of self protection not wanting the world to see the real me or something I sub consciously did so I did not trigger my father? After all, being at home, it was a fine tightrope to tread..not be surly, disruptive, not to withdraw or act frightened but not to be too boisterously happy. All I know is, people would probably have described me (bar my hormonal slightly bitchy phase) as happy and outgoing. ( Ahhh..if only they knew.)

    I spent years avoiding relationships and put up a brick wall as a cloak of protection. I only recognize this in hindsight, mind you. I think it’s really because I always thought a Dad should be (hate to sound all Dr Phil… but) a man that his daughter could feel 100% safe and loved with, that soft place to be when the world was shitty. Damaged kids invariably transition into damaged adults until we try to make sense of it all. In hindsight, again, I was terrified of being emotionally exposed.
    Eventually in my mid twenties, I met an exceptionally human being who became my Husband, it feels ‘normal’ to have a home where there is absolutely no fear in it. I think being so emotionally crippled and scared at the time definitely saved me from being drawn into a potentially disastrous relationship, as I now reflect on some of the types of men I was initially drawn too.
    In a way, for you to be drawn to an alcoholic (even if developed after the fact) was something that you probably were subconsciously ‘trained’ to do and not realize it at the time. It seems you have come along way because when I went through and read your blogs, they show a lot of insight, reflection and to me you use this to keep moving forward, so you should be VERY proud of yourself. πŸ™‚

    I can empathize with you, as my Father was at times physically abusive, earliest memory of being punched was when I was about 6, I was so excited to be going for icecream I ran clean across the grass through a dried mud where a puddle had been and got into the car with mud stuck on the bottom of my feet. You would think being physically attacked by a 6 ft 2 physically imposing man was the worse, but it was the constant walking on eggshells trying to avoid the verbal explosion and tirade that was actually WORSE.
    The horrific animal abuse that he sometimes perpetrated was what got me into trouble the most, something I almost always interjected myself into. That was the thing that use to give me nightmares that lasted well into my thirties.

    I analysed my Dad and his behavior until my head hurt. I’m pretty sure I know exactly why he ended up the way he did (as you do with your Father) and I definitely think he had (has) a mental illness. Regardless, there was awareness of the impact his behavior had on us and although sometimes he was wracked with guilt, it was cowardly he did not take measures to seek help and I think he was AFRAID to expose himself. Instead, I and my family paid a price for his cowardice and fears All the generosity and bursts of kindness doesn’t erase the abuse.
    For years I struggled with the guilt that as a child and teenager I HATED him to the point I wished he was dead. Later, it was a struggle to accept that I loved him as a Father, but did not like who he was, I am mostly comfortable in that acceptance. I rarely venture to see him now, even though he is old and that is okay too.

    You know Christin, not that I have the gall to say that my situation was more traumatic than what your experiences were, but don’t you think it’s pretty amazing that we got through this with our empathy and conscience intact and functioning? I do. πŸ™‚


    1. Hi Christin,

      “Did your Mom pretend like everything was fine?” Now that is interesting that you made. Yes! Yes she did!

      For example, one time she did not get out of bed “fast enough” to let him in the house at 2am one winter’s morning when he came home late and he went off into one of his infamous meltdowns.

      On and on. Finally (I was about 13 I guess) I jump out of the bed as he’s upping his threats to “make” her sleep on a chair, Mom and I were both grabbed and thrown outside. After about fifteen minutes in the freezing cold, I punched a hole in the window screen, slipped my hand through and unlocked it and got back into the house.

      I remember asking her to come and sleep in my bed so she wouldn’t have to go into the room with him. For about an hour I heard muffled voices and crying as a muted argument went back and forth, naturally I didn’t go to sleep for many hours because I went into the “on guard” or “hyper vigilant” mode.

      Anyway, other then Mom being a bit more subdued, the next day it was as per usual, a forced type of cheeriness like NOTHING had happened and what did happen was somehow perfectly normal. It’s funny, I only thought how SURREAL that behavior really was after you mentioned it.

      As an aside, the next day, I was standing next to the back door where I’d punch a hole in the screen and my Dad comes out and asks what happened to the screen.
      I said dead calm: “I punched a hole in it to get back in after you threw us out.”
      I was half expecting a belt a cross the face to be honest, but he didn’t say or do a damned thing, I got pretty good at ‘reading’ his moods at a young age, but this time I couldn’t tell whether he was sitting on anger or possibly felt a little bad.

      And like you I will never have all the answers. I’d like to ask my Mother why on earth did she stay with such an asshole and ask her was she aware how much it affected me, but honestly Christin, even if I got answers that I needed to hear, it wouldn’t change anything.

      I am personally amazed that I’m still here and relatively normal. I’m proud of that.We are we are pretty resilient women Christin!


      1. Julie,
        I am so sorry because it sounds like you can truly relate to my home life. Yes, we have survived! We are moving forward without our family legacy of violence and dysfunction.
        Live your life the way you want, You Deserve It!!!!!
        Give yourself a break when a memory or nightmare brings you back to that house. It will always be there, waiting to jump up and ruin your life. Stay strong. Live the life you were meant to live in spite of them.


      1. Hi Brian,
        Are you her Aussie friend? She lives in her own apartment with her dog. She has lost most of her hold over us, her children.


  2. Hi Christin,

    I just stumbled upon your blog here. I have to say it’s good to read that things seem to be going in a positive direction for you and your family. I’ve watched the interviews done by HBO (from a long time ago now) several times and each time I always wonder how you and you siblings fared through that experience. Being a father of 4 myself I cannot imagine what that must have been like or what the struggles are now but your blogs shed some light on that. So it’s much appreciated that you would share these things with us. I pray that you, your husband, son and siblings continue to head in a positive direction.


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