I keep trying to post and then getting distracted…go figure.
But I’ve had a lot going on, trying to enter a writing contest, finishing books, working, trying to finish my school courses, and planning a vacation.
But excuses aside, I do have something a bit more unusual to post about.
Those of you who’ve read my older posts from the last four years probably recall that I had the experience of ending an abusive situation, in a very unusual way, and have been dealing with the repercussions of that, therapy, and trying to build new relationships.
I’ve said before that I don’t hate my father, but I do not know where the future will take us.
This month, I finally decided to do something I’ve been thinking about for probably nearly 3 years, and call him.
I haven’t talked to him since he tried to use a family memorial to manipulate my sympathy with, and since we talked to him when he had a mild heart attack. I’ve thought about it, but just couldn’t bring myself to yet. I didn’t feel secure in not being dragged back into that cycle.
Often people do reconcile with their family after splitting, and they mention that it happened, but very few talk about how the process went in detail, I thought maybe my impression after it might be useful to someone.
My Dad is not the kind of abusive that makes the news and shocks people, though it does surprise some people I’ve spoken to, so talking to him is not really dangerous for me to do, just awkward.
But my past with him was not all bad memories, though it was certainly very few good ones after a certain age.
I can’t explain what really went wrong on his end, or what he really thinks, I’m not sure he even knows.
But for me, I decided it wasn’t something I wanted to deal with or be responsible for anymore.
But I didn’t want to be that girl who never talks to her father either because of old resentments.
I’ve met people like that. People have said repeatedly to protect myself and that I don’t owe him anything. My family, aside from his relatives, have mostly not put pressure on me to reconnect.
So with a clear head, I knew I was making this choice for myself, but I was never against it one day.
I think at some point you have to choose what you want. Our current culture glorifies cutting people off and not giving them second chances. It glories self love–and we have a loneliness and mental health epidemic.
It’s not very biblical, but I’ve heard Christians say the same things.
The Bible does warn us that in the last days (any day after Christ’s ascension), sin will abound and love for many people will grow cold.
Sins ares so easy to see, with our media, that peopl allow it to kill love before it has time to even really mature.
I don’t regret making the choice to try to still love my dad even in the years he was making me miserable, deliberately. The fact is, loving him despite that was what gave me any power to not be ruined by his attitude. He didn’t make me into another version of himself, because I chose to forgive and stay open to love, though I was scarred and I have had ot unlearn a lot of habits.
That said, I was hesitant to call him because I knew from watching and listening to other people in m situation, that contact with the person in the cycle is the most likely thing to pull you back into it. It’s like people have their own relational gravity, that pulls you either up or down the scale of bad to good behavior.
But I’ve gotten more and more upbeat and somewhat more confident in the last couple years, and I thought it might be time to test how much I had changed.
I want to be honest with you all reading this. I won’t sugarcoat it and I won’t exaggerate how bad it was either. All I have is my honest thoughts of what happened.
Perhaps the drama queens reading this will be disappointed to know there was nothing explosive about our conversation.
He was teary at first, then we spent most of it talking about our lives, and the only really serious thing I wanted to say was that if I was going to keep in touch, I didn’t want to waste any time fighting, or arguing.
I also told him I’m not looking for apologies. I just want to talk about normal stuff and see how it goes.
I think most people who have been through this will get it, but to those who haven’t who might wonder why I don’t want to hear the words “I’m sorry”, let me explain:
My dad is a textbook narcissistic abuser. He’s emotionally manipulative in the way that messes with your head. Who knows if it’s intentional or not at this stage, I think someone as old as him might have been this way so long they can’t tell the truth anymore–I hope so. If he does it knowingly, that’s just worse.
But what this means is that periodically for me, growing up, and for my mom long before that, he would make a big confession to either her or us all as a family, of how he knew he’d been doing all these things wrong, and he would admit his flaws (usually he’d be on point about them), and say he was going to try to change.
As a Christian, he would also say God convicted him about it.
I note now, looking back, that he never said it was by the grace of God that he could change, which is a red flag for a Christian, to think our own effort will be enough.
The first time he did this where I could hear him, I thought he meant it. I soon learned that he didn’t.
Fast foward to now, he told me the same things over the phone.
He did seem older, and more tired than in the past, but then, he could do that before. Most of my big memories of him are him yelling at me, but he could be contrite too. It felt weird to be on the receiving end of it though.
I told my sisters afterward, who are used to this also, that I knew better than to buy it because if he had me under his power again, I knew it would be the same as before, or worse even. What he would do to me to make me pay for all this, I can only imagine.
But if I don’t put myself in that position with him, I probably have nothing to fear. As long as I have control of this interaction, he will probably be respectful.
But the question is, if I don’t believe it’s genuine, and I can’t trust him, what is the point of us talking at all?
I’m also well aware that his family has a history of not speaking to each other for a long time, and then crawling back and pretending to reconcile, only to fight and argue again
So I could be part of a repetitive cycle here if I’m not careful. The whole thing is a mine field.
So why bother then?
I’m still working on answering that. But I do think one part of it is, just shutting down and cutting off is the kind of thing he would do to me, and I don’t want to be the same.
At the end of it all, I don’t want to be the one they said didn’t try or didn’t give it her A-game. I believe in love and forgiveness, not spite and grudgeholding. It’s not about my dad deserving that from me, it’s about wanting to be the kind of person who goes above what is deserved.
I may never get what I want, but I don’t want that to be because I didn’t try.
I do not think just distance alone will change this relationship, I think you have to build new inroads, and redefine how you do things, if you really want change.
It’s a two way street, I’m not saying I intend to bend over backwards to get his approval, I don’t think I’m even trying to get his approval much now. I suppose I still wish he was pleased with me, it’s only natural to wish that, but his praise doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s proven too many times that it will evaporate as soon as he gets angry about anything.
However, what does concern me is the amount of temptations that popped up in my mind in the two weeks after talking to him, three weeks now, to rehash the past. I was willing to leave it alone while I wasn’t talking, but now that I have, I think of all the things I wanted to say to him over the years, and couldn’t.
And I now know are unwise to say. Don’t cast your pearls before swine. It’s not much good giving someone wisdom that they won’t listen to, or will twist into something else.
People write about telling off abusers, and that’s cathartic–until you try it. The bible warns us that anger towards an angry or evil person just makes them worse, and that is true. I had moments of standing up for myself in the past, and my dad would seem to listen briefly, but then it would be gone a few days later and he’d double down.
So what can I say or do that has any meaning? At first, I just wanted to be able to have a civil conversation. Can I get carried away and hope to restore decades of lost relationships?
No, I’m not God.
So what is my part here? I don’t know.
I can’t lie and say this is an easy situation. When you’re dealing with someone who can’t even meet you in the middle, because they have no idea what that middle is, it’s tricky. You don’t want to carry the burden on your own shoulders, but you know that they won’t carry an equal amount. That’s not even how love really works.
I realize, writing this, that this affects my perception of my life overall. I often ask myself if what I’m doing makes any real difference, because, like with my Dad, I don’t get to see any results. I can try, and try, and never know if a thought even sticks in someone else’s mind.
And even if I’m told it did, I don’t believe it, because my dad would tell me that, and then contradict it a few days later.
As you can imagine, I have serious trust issues because of that double sided aspect of him.
So why open myself up to that again?
It’s not easy, and it’s not something I would do in large doses, but at a smaller level, is it worth it to try?
Maybe just for personal satisfaction. My dad will not be around forever. When he passes on, do I want to have a clear conscience that he had every chance I could give him to be a better dad?
Not that I need his help, now. That’s not what this is about. But someone needs a way to redeem themselves sometimes, or they will never dare to try. And I think people should get a chance to try, if they truly want it.
I can’t say if he does, but is that my call to make? As a human with limited perception?
Those are the questions that keep me from calling it quits entirely. Not that I would be open to more abuse. But in a safer zone, I would be open to some redemption or reconciliation of some nature happening.
Another reason I have is just that, in situation like this, where you have generations of cycles to break, you won’t change a thing by doing nothing. Taking myself out of it is something that protects me, but not anyone else. Trying to change it has the potential to stick with someone, maybe it won’t be my dad. But maybe it’s something someone else in the family could look at, and say “I don’t want ot keep doing this crap either. I’d rather just stop the cycle of abuse. And resentment.
I’m still learning about this. I can’t tell you all it will work out for sure. And if it doesn’t, I think I will be honest about that.
But there are things that haven’t been tried yet, that could be tried, before I just assume that it won’t work. And if those don’t work, then I know for sure.
The Bible says that love endures all things and hopes all things, and it never fails. That doesn’t mean that you will never see someone fail in learning to love. That happens.
But I believe it means, that when you make love your protection and shield and your way of life, it will never fail to change your life and make it better. You may fail to get through tos oem people who have hard hearts, but you will not become like them. And most of us fear being the bad guy even more than we fear what the bad guy can do to us. We don’t want to be poisoned by our past.
I am not perfect, but I can tell you all today, that in the last few years, I have vastly changed how I approach people, how I love them, and I’ve learned to let a lot of things go that used to irritate me for a long time. I tripped over a lot of things at first, but I kept pressing towards love, and gradually, I began to be more graceful with it.
I would also like to tell anyone who is thinking about making this journey a few things:
1. You will not get a lot of encouragement from the world. People will tell you you’re wasting your energy trying to be loving towards the unlovely. And if you are leaving yourself wide open for pain, that’s not okay–but if you’re just remaining soft, and not bitter or vindictive, that’s your choice. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you to get even or to cut people off who you can safely still be around, but they think you shouldn’t bother with.
2. The anger does go away. I’ve not only stopped feeling angry at my dad, and many other people, over what happened; but I’ve stopped getting angry as easily in general because of the choice to forgive and try to set a better pattern. You may feel the anger never stops, but it can. And I’m naturally a grudge holder, so trust me, if I can change that, you can.
3. The pain does get better. I’ve been through it, the depression, anxiety, fear that my life will be ruined, the aching from not being loved or treated well. And it does come back, sometimes, still. But it’s not everyday, and it’s not overpowering. I also have learned to see signs of love where I did not before, and to see people mean well, even when I don’t feel a connection with what they are saying. I’m also more okay with feeling pain now, as long as it’s clean sadness, and not bitterness. I’m okay with crying about a movie where there’s a father who’s more kind and loving than mine has ever been, and letting that make me more aware of what I want and what I seek in God, instead of resenting that I didn’t have it in earth. But that is also a choice and it took a while to feel that way.
4. You will embarrass yourself. This is a hard one for me. I hate looking like I don’t know something…but, the reality is, I don’t know naturally, that much about healthy love. I have to learn it step by step, and at times, it’s extremely awkward to be around much more open people, and to not be able to be that way with them. People with better families than I, who sometimes think I’m cold, because I have no clue how to respond to them. and sometimes, I say things that I think sound normal, only to find that my toxic family dynamic treated as normal what other people think is rude, harsh, cruel, or inappropriate. But, that also gets better. I have learned a lot. I’m still out of my depth sometimes, but I am learning bit by bit. I pray that one day I will be where I want to be, or at least a lot better than I am now.
5. It takes time. I’ve said this with the others, but it’s something I have to remind myself a lot. I wish it was a fast process, but relearning love and life, it takes years. I’ve had 4 years. I think I’ve done well in that amount of time, but it takes most people 10 or more years to really see the kind of life they want, I think. Depending on the person. I’ve also had to do a lot alone, though I’ve had help sometimes. It varies from day to day. And I’ve had to learn to be okay with not always having help, but sometimes saying I need it.
So, now that I’ve admitted all that, do I eel better?
Not really. Dwelling on this stuff is the best way to psych yourself out, which is why I don’t want to write about it too much till I’ve had more time to get self control. Controlling my mood about this stuff has taken a really long time, and it still goes up and down when I get stressed.
But I can thank God I’m in a much better frame of mind about all this than I used to be. And I snap out of it much faster when I do get in a funk. Everyone gets in a funk sometimes, but we don’t have to stay there.
So, yeah, for how it went, I’d say about as well as could be expected, and I’ll see where it goes. But that people should take caution about the kinds of temptations that will pop up when you stir up old memories, just because it starts you thinking about the past again.
So with encouragement and caution, I think I’ll wrap this post up, until next time, stay honest–Natasha.
