A Right to Expression.

Just swaying off the letter writing for one post as I encourage you all to find a safe form of expression. 

Mine is WordPress and I would like to make it clear as to why.

Venting anger in a safe way is important. Through writing, I can allow myself to feel negatively without letting it transfer into the outside world. I tend not to be an angry person and I am not a fan of confrontation but I feel I have the right to speak when I feel hurt or bruised. If anger is bottled up then it can cause severe distress in the long run. 

I may not present to the world that I am hurt in any way but that itself is a sort of safety barrier. One may not agree with the idea of blogging. It may seem self-indulgent and epicurean to some but that is not fair. I do not write for my own healing only, I write to help others release their emotions and pent up frustrations. Their responses are what matter.

I feel safe through WordPress. I do not offload onto my family and rarely onto my husband. I try to keep things positive with my good friends only focussing on the happier things happening in our lives. Of course, we do rant, don’t get me wrong but even I know that dissecting my abuse history with them might not be the best way to spend a coffee afternoon.

I apologise if what I say does offend. Just remember this. Others have people to talk to. I don’t. I don’t feel comfortable or feel comfort from talking about me. Certainly not directly to anyone. I find that very hard. Writing on the other hand, comes naturally. It is my form and right of expression. It is my release. Even when no one responds, someone is listening.

I only ever want to be heard.

Advertisements

3. Don’t patronise me Dad.

Finding one of my father’s patronising notes to me was quite shocking. Although I wish I kept them all for evidence, I could not stand the thought of knowing his evil letters were filling my drawers.

I must have saved this one for a reason. Perhaps I was losing patience or wanted to remind myself that these things were truly happening. Either way, I saved it. I do not know when this note was left for me or what the circumstances that provoked him to write it really were. But usually it didn’t matter what I had really done. It was probably the smallest thing that prompted him to write it. All that is clear, is that I had annoyed him. He does not talk to me like his daughter in it nor like someone close to him. If anything it speaks volumes of how he could not communicate with anyone especially his own child.

 You still have got a part filled tall glass in your room. Can you bring that down and do the rest as you have said. I do not wish to prolong this topic but why do you need to use a fresh towel each time you wash your hair and then dump it somewhere? A little effort to live in germ free conditions and a little good taste in living conditions would be appreciated.      ‘Cheers’ 

I have no idea why he signed off with cheers in inverted commas. Was he being sarcastic? Or making fun of me? Probably. He never vocalised his grievances to me when they were small. He’d write these notes and leave them throughout the house surprising me in every room. He would wait until the little annoyances built up to a point of frustration and he would take great enjoyment in each explosion of utter rage.

My father couldn’t have wanted a good relationship with me. Surely, if he did, he would have recognised that these notes were pointless and all he needed to do was communicate calmly to get what he wanted. I wasn’t obstinate. I just wanted respect.

Respect he always said I never deserved.