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This one is a tough one for me to write. But it’s been playing on my mind, so I guess we’ll just break this jar wide open! I want to start by making sure everyone knows, I love my dad. Very much. He has always been a massive impact on my life.
I know I’ve already told you, but I don’t really have any memories of my childhood (check out: https://connectedtoninjas.wordpress.com/2019/09/07/memories-what-are-they-really-good-for/ ). But I’ve been told so many stories about the great things my dad did for us. He promised me once when I was small he would take me to the beach at the weekend, I was so excited. When the weekend came the weather was terrible, raining and windy. My dad wrapped me up in clothes and coats and we went and sat on the sand and built sandcastles in the storm.
He’s never treat us badly, him and my mam are still married and together. Despite having a few memories as a teenager that they might not make it through this fight. We did get a smack if he thought we’d done something to deserve it. I remember my brother sitting in his seat at the kitchen table and being a general arsey teenager refusing to move, my dad hit him so hard round the head I felt it! I remember the first time I swore in front of my dad refusing to get in the bath after my brother hadn’t fully let out all his bath water stating, “I’m not sitting in his pissy bath water”. Ouch! He got me so hard on the back of my thigh.
I was scared of him, I still am to be honest. He can have a short temper, he is not a people person, he seems disappointed in me sometimes, he doesn’t ever talk about feelings and I would say his dominant emotion is grumpy. I love him though, he’s always bailed me out with money when I needed it. But he thinks the answer to my mental health has always been, “just be happy”. Wow… if only it was that easy.
Why aren’t I working full time? I don’t make enough money! My boyfriend should be working full time in any job or he’s not worthy.
It gets to you when that’s all he wants to talk about when you see him. It really wears you down. I suppose I should be grateful for a dad who is in my life and cares. And I am. But where’s the line?
Now I’m here, writing this blog, for who knows what reason. Terrified that it somehow gets back to him. Still that scared kid, afraid to oppose him or his ideas of the world. Happy in my own world, but seen as I’ll never be happy in his.
It’s hard not to think, what has this done in relation to my mental health? What side effects has this had on my personality, my core being, without me realising? I guess that’s out for everyone else to decide.
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