Hi WordPress, readers and fellow bloggers,
I decided (after a significant moment in my life) that in January of 2013, I would begin my first blog.
From the ages of sixteen to thirty, I was subjected to a barrage of mental and emotional abuse from my father. It came as a huge shock to me as I once, a long time ago, idolised him. He appeared to be the perfect father, caring and considerate, thoughtful and generous, he was my hero. Then, at sixteen, a mistake was made. Unwittingly, I fell head first into an emotional trap and the beginning of what would eventually break me began. My father turned and suddenly became the enemy. He altered every aspect he once portrayed to me. I was a burden on him – a problem, he often told me the “wrong daughter” had chosen to be with him. I was unwanted by him yet he wouldn’t release me from his controlling grip.
This is my story, my truth, my journey to a brighter place away from the abuse. It’s a chance to look back without anger but honesty and tell the world about a man who destroyed me. It will take a long time to make a few steps forward. The abuse only ended last year, time will heal it, but not immediately. People expect you to forget, after all, it is over. However being abused by your own Dad, someone who is supposed to love you, well, it can ruin you. It cannot be just ‘forgotten’.
I am from London, UK. The media in this country pays more focus now than it ever did to mental/emotional abuse, yet the subject is still pretty unknown. Physical, sexual, domestic and child abuse takes forefront. The abuse from my father happened from the age of 16 well into my late twenties, early thirties. There was no label for that. I wish I could have turned to someone or known where to get help. I wanted to be free as soon as I discovered what kind of a man my father really was.
My blog tells the story of the last 33 years. Life has never been great even now, when I should be free, I am still haunted by the past. My father was my abuser, mentally and emotionally tearing me apart. He had total control over me as much as I fought against it. His power was consuming and I struggled to do anything right. I could never please him. He found wrong in everything; it was his nature to complain and criticise. I had no one to turn to. I have lost many “friends” over the years, many have deserted me when they found out about my past. They were embarrassed, shocked, they refused to believe it was happening. It was just another thing that tore me apart.
I am physically free now.
But there is still so much work to do. He may be out of my sight but he lingers in my mind. I wish I could get that innocence back.
I wanted to tell the truth that I have hidden for so many years and through the power of this blog I finally feel I have a voice.
Thank you all so much for listening. I am no longer crying into darkness. Now there is only light.
I want to make the point that I solely write this blog as a release. For all those horrible years living with abuse day in day out, I had no one to turn to. I had no release. The people I told often accused me of exaggerating, they often left me feeling more alone than before. I never had the option of writing a blog, my father would regularly check through my emails or computer files. Nothing was safe. At times, he’d even read my journals. After a while I didn’t care. I wanted him to see my contempt.
Now I do have a release. I have this blog to vent, air, discuss, talk, hope, rage, moan. I talk of my life on here and however selfish that may be to some people, it is my only way of having a voice. If you do not agree with the topics or stories I write, then please do not continue to read them. If you choose to do otherwise then I hope that I have your support. I cannot reiterate this – as much I as love supportive comments I do not wish to receive malicious ones as I have only recently. To the woman who so kindly implied I welcomed such comments, of course I don’t. Who would?
As someone very wise once said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”.
Thanks for reading.