"Family vent" ***long, triggers****
IrishKipley
Registrant
Last night after work, i found myself getting ready to go back to "MY" house. the house where i learned so much about myself and how people, how fathers are suppose to be. my two roommates were gone and i was there by myself....worried about what i would wear. it was time for a celebration.
a little history, ugly ,...shameful, but who i am
For as long as i can remember my dad sexually abused me. i can never remember a time before that. my mom had left, gone somewhere to get away. i heard later, that she was dead....living on the streets of san francisco. into drugs and dealing with voices in her head. my dad always used that against me. saying i would be nowhere without him. he said he loved me. i didn't know anything about love...all i knew was if this was what love was...i didn't want it. the last time he hurt me i was 16. that night was cold i remember. he had locked me in his room. he raped me, would leave...come back in intervals of about 45 mins. i dont know really, i lost track of time. he had my hands cuffed to the air vent in the floor. i can still feel the pain of what he did. sometimes i sense that he is there..behind me, over me..but it is all in my head. stupid brain of mine. the next morning it was like i was outside of myself. walking in my house, things were surreal. he was watching tv in the basement. i made up my mind to leave and had some stuff packed. my dad heard me and came to see what was going on. we had words, i actually shoved him backwards when he grabbed my arm, trying to stop me from leaving. it didn't. i went to a counseling center where a friend of mine worked. i told him about what had happened. he told me he was going home for a few weeks and i should come with him. we drove across country and my whole life changed.
sure, i was almost 17 but i didn't know how to act in the real world. in a world not controlled by my father , by pain, sadness. i met my friends father and he was the most genuinely nice man i had ever known. he was a widower. his wife had died three years ealier of cancer. they had a total of seven children, all boys. i turned out to be the eighth. Cam took me into his home, gave me security. i get so choked up about it even now. i lived with them for four years. they all saved me from what would have been death, i believe. how do i ever repay something like that? i know it wasn't a conditional thing, but i feel guilty at times...go figure????? we are still so close, i feel like he is family. my apartment is not far from his house.
i can't fathom the difference between my father, who pretended to be a dad and Cam who WAS a dad. i see the way Cam is with all of his boys and it makes my heart ache.
so tonight, it was Cam's birthday. we all had a big dinner and sat around till four in the morning talking about things. i felt a part of their family, like i had shared in their lives, if only for a little while. i never knew what real love was until i was "adopted" into this family. my read dad never seemed to care that i was gone, only tries to call me from time to time....wanting me to come home. i'm not quite sure what i feel for him now. i use to be able to define that feeling...it was hate. but now it's mixed with pity and wanting to understand him. i don't think i can ever see him again and thats what makes it so hard. i try to tell myself that he has no power over me anymore, but everytime i think of him, what he did to me all i see is red, i am ashamed of myself. no amount of washing can cleanse me. i still feel dirty after all these years.
Kip
a little history, ugly ,...shameful, but who i am
For as long as i can remember my dad sexually abused me. i can never remember a time before that. my mom had left, gone somewhere to get away. i heard later, that she was dead....living on the streets of san francisco. into drugs and dealing with voices in her head. my dad always used that against me. saying i would be nowhere without him. he said he loved me. i didn't know anything about love...all i knew was if this was what love was...i didn't want it. the last time he hurt me i was 16. that night was cold i remember. he had locked me in his room. he raped me, would leave...come back in intervals of about 45 mins. i dont know really, i lost track of time. he had my hands cuffed to the air vent in the floor. i can still feel the pain of what he did. sometimes i sense that he is there..behind me, over me..but it is all in my head. stupid brain of mine. the next morning it was like i was outside of myself. walking in my house, things were surreal. he was watching tv in the basement. i made up my mind to leave and had some stuff packed. my dad heard me and came to see what was going on. we had words, i actually shoved him backwards when he grabbed my arm, trying to stop me from leaving. it didn't. i went to a counseling center where a friend of mine worked. i told him about what had happened. he told me he was going home for a few weeks and i should come with him. we drove across country and my whole life changed.
sure, i was almost 17 but i didn't know how to act in the real world. in a world not controlled by my father , by pain, sadness. i met my friends father and he was the most genuinely nice man i had ever known. he was a widower. his wife had died three years ealier of cancer. they had a total of seven children, all boys. i turned out to be the eighth. Cam took me into his home, gave me security. i get so choked up about it even now. i lived with them for four years. they all saved me from what would have been death, i believe. how do i ever repay something like that? i know it wasn't a conditional thing, but i feel guilty at times...go figure????? we are still so close, i feel like he is family. my apartment is not far from his house.
i can't fathom the difference between my father, who pretended to be a dad and Cam who WAS a dad. i see the way Cam is with all of his boys and it makes my heart ache.
so tonight, it was Cam's birthday. we all had a big dinner and sat around till four in the morning talking about things. i felt a part of their family, like i had shared in their lives, if only for a little while. i never knew what real love was until i was "adopted" into this family. my read dad never seemed to care that i was gone, only tries to call me from time to time....wanting me to come home. i'm not quite sure what i feel for him now. i use to be able to define that feeling...it was hate. but now it's mixed with pity and wanting to understand him. i don't think i can ever see him again and thats what makes it so hard. i try to tell myself that he has no power over me anymore, but everytime i think of him, what he did to me all i see is red, i am ashamed of myself. no amount of washing can cleanse me. i still feel dirty after all these years.
Kip
i appreciate the advice and also the fact that you shared a little bit of yourself. thanks for the music tip. i plan on checking it out. sorry i'm sort of short on words right now, but just wanted to say thanks.