Today Is Father's Day

A part of me really doesn't want to write this post.  I thought I would write it last night but that didn't happen. To postpone writing this, I spent time on emails and reading blog posts that others have written on Father's Day.  Last night I was on Facebook and became involved in a conversation that turned out to be over 60+ comments long about fathers and incest.

What I am feeling right now - fear, confusion, anger, sadness, grief - all started just before Mother's Day.  I have been on a rollercoaster ride of emotions since then - up and down and scattered all over the place and when things got too intense eating uncontrollably at night.  I have no problems with overeating in the daytime.  It always starts after 6:00 p.m.  I just got the thought "That was when Daddy got home from work.  That was when the fear and tension walked into the house.  Would it be tonight? Would he find some trip back to town was needed to pick up something that he forgot?"  I always had to go with him and that meant sex in the truck on some isolated road or field before we would go back home. I would feel sick to my stomach before and afterwards.

My son just called to wish his dad Happy Father's Day.

My mother never questioned why my dad couldn't go by himself or why I was always the one who had to go with him.  I was the oldest but men usually do father son things.  My brother was only a year and a half younger than me.  By the age of 9 or 10, he should have been doing things with his dad. We were grown and I was away from home before that happened.  I can only imagine how my brother felt, aways being ignored.

My stomach is tied in knots and I am feeling nauseous right now.

I recently decided to do some inner child work again to see if I had any open wounds left that needed to be healed.  I bought a book which has mysteriously disappeared this morning.  I have searched the house twice for it.  The book is a workbook by Cathryn L. Taylor.  I think the title is The Inner Child Workbook, if not it is something similar to that.  I have been reading just a few pages each night.  I haven't gotten to any of the exercises yet.  I guess the fact that I have "lost" the book tells me that one or more of my inner children are afraid to do the exercises.

My feelings and thoughts are really scattered this morning.  Part of me wants to hide from the world until today is over.  Another part of me is mad as Hell that I am feeling all of this again.  Another part wants to go eat and never stop.  A part of me wants to throw up.  Another part is getting a headache.  These are not separate identities like with DID or multiple personalities.  These are all my wounded, scared inner children.  All of us who were wounded by incest or any form of child abuse has these inner children.  They are the parts of us that stop developing at certain times in our lives when the abuse was happening. 

Doing inner child work means going back through each developmental stage of life to find out what needs to be learned to finish each developmental stage of childhood.  What inner child needs to be nurtured and taught to trust the adult me?  Which ones need to be loved and hugged and played with?  Which ones need to know that they can't control the adult me with temper tantrums or other childlike behaviours when we are in crisis mode.  The adult me needs to be the one in control during a crisis in order to keep all of us safe.  I need to learn to love them and trust them as much as they do the adult me.

I am going to try an experiment right now, totally unplanned previously.  The adult me is going to step out of the way and let one or more of my inner children tell you their thoughts about our father and Father's Day.  Here goes.


Tears.  Anger.  Rage.  Sadness.  Crying inside with tears coming to the surface. 

Tears because daddy didn't love us or he wouldn't have hurt us.  Anger because we are supposed to honor daddies on Father's Day.  (Having difficulty letting go of the control and letting the words flow.  Husband just came in and interrupted thoughts.)

Rage because anger is too tame a word to use for what I am feeling.  Overall sadness which has been with me, it seems like forever.  (Husband goes back to work in an hour.  Will come back and finish this when I am alone and it is quiet again.)

In that hour I found THE INNER CHILD WORKBOOK:  What to do with your past when it just won't go away written by Cathryn L. Taylor.  I asked my Higher Self where the book was after searching the house twice trying to find it.  I immediately picked up some papers next to my computer and the book was under them.

I don't know if I even want to go back to the exercise that I started above or not.  I bet you are thinking "Just get on with it."

Dear Daddy, you were never the daddy that I needed you to be.  One of my earliest memories of you is of you making my little brother who was less than 2 years old smoke a cigar until he was so sick that he was thowing up.  You said it was so that he wouldn't smoke when he got older. You laughed and thought it was funny.  Even at 3 or so, I didn't laugh or think it was funny.  You were mean to him and scarey to me.  I thought you would make me smoke a cigar too but you didn't.  I didn't like you for making my little brother sick. Daddies aren't supposed to do things like that.

During that same time period I remember my brother sleeping on an army cot in the same room where I slept at the foot of the bed with you and momma at the top of the bed.  What was that all about? Was I in the bed when you and momma had sex?  Did you fondle me during the night after momma was asleep?  Is that part of the mystery that I don't remember?  That I have forgotten on purpose in an effort to protect 3 year old me from dealing with something that was just too big for a 2-3 year old to survive in her mind.  Why did my 2-3 year old mind shut out any memories of sexual abuse?  What was too painful for that child me to be able to remember and deal with?  This is where the sadness, grief, fear and anger is coming from.

I hurt but I don't know why.  Inside the child of less than three hurts and cries and wonders why no one loves her or protects her from you or whoever else hurt her.  The memories are locked away.  They do exist in some area of my body or mind.  They are why the three-year-old called herself an adultress. This is hard to write and I know that I am still keeping some distance between me and all of this.  Some part of me is not willing right now to get any closer to the feelings or the memories that those inner children still carry to this day.  The body is still holding on, also afraid to feel the pain of those childhood days.  Instead the body gets an upset stomach, indigestion, ulcers, coughing attacks, headaches because it doesn't know how to let go.  It is more afraid of being empty without the stuffed feelings.  It is so easy to just disconnect from it all rather than feel the emotions.  I am surprised that it still hurts so much.  That is all that I can write today.  The adult me is too afraid of what the inner children might reveal.  The adult me doesn't feel very strong just now. 
Sorry,
Patricia