#ChildhoodTrauma · #MeToo · Uncategorized · Women's Rights/ Women's Stories

I AM not his Daughter anymore

I am insignificant yet wise, I am wise but not all knowing. How others perceive me is no longer what defines me. I have done wrong things in this life and I too, have been wronged. Sometimes I wish I could be Catholic for a day and go into a secret boxed booth with an unknown priest and embellish him with my stories and be given some penalty or sacrifice part of my desires. My desires. What are they; where do they live and thrive? I desire beauty, the Atlas mountains, the frothy, rocky shores of Norway’s deathly frigid waters; the lifetime dream of seeing old friends one more time, and to see the world just a bit more. I desire my youth and body untainted, my eyes to see clearly, able to detect the slightest change of colour. My tarnished desire is to erase the monster who stole my heart over and then more. To know my father was the one whom I worshiped more than God, a God of any form, hailing from any religion or mystical being is heinous. I was banished because of my honesty and it was if I had been bound, gagged and left at an unknown place, dumped with my crippled body and no guide to help me find my way home. It was through him I learned to love, to trust men and when his lies and words were used to only protect his image to his new family, his connections to money and investors for his rusty worn out dreams I stepped back and saw he would never stand up for anyone who he loved. He doesn’t love like me or you. He only sees a need for others. I blew the whistle and he blew me away. It wasn’t about fairness, but loyalty. I no longer play with a poker face. He made me feel like I was the most important person in the world for 80% of my life. He needed my reassurance and I delivered directly to his ego. I was the dime bag, the next fix when everyone walked away. Now I am working with Rock to set things straight, line it all up and then learn to shut down my anger, my sense of being abandoned and spring back up to rejoin life as it is. Life without BaDDaD’s stories, nor his intrusion into my dreams at night. I pray to whatever God is to help me stay strong, protect my inner child and leave the idea of “righting” things in the darkest corner of my mind. If God exists then BaDDaD’s deeds will be summonsed and he will face his fears one on one with the light of the Divine Good blinding him. Do I wish him harm? I wish him to come to know the suffering he inflicted upon other women. I want him to be burned and abandoned. But, as I said, I only have desire, no power or influence over anything. I am not broken yet I am far from being healed. How do I stop thinking about why he is the narcissistic greedy person he is? I simply must stop thinking. A God would have stepped in by now and from where I sit, I am certain I am all alone with my pain. The rain splatters against my window panes at one a.m. and I am so tired of my own mind rolling round and round with BaDDaD memories. So very, very tired. I do hope there is a penance for the cruel and cold hearted. I should not wish this. But I really do and no priest will I be meeting anytime soon. It’s just me, the black sky and lingering anguish that has no known potion to extinguish my suffering.