Monday, November 17, 2008

Broken Alarm

(And miscellaneous father ramblings)
I've been getting really into dreams lately and trying to "teach" my brain to make better use of my dreams. I bought a book which includes a dream journal. It's pretty cool, asking questions about the day, certain events, prevalent emotions, recurring thoughts. You write all that down before you go to bed and also write down if there is anything in particular you'd like your dreams to address that night. The following morning, you write down what you remember of your dream(s) and compare it to the day before to see if there are any parallels.
Saturday night, I had a most interesting dream. In my dream, my father came to my house, uninvited, and I found him sleeping on my couch. I left him a note and I went to bed. When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. I could not figure out how he got out of the house without setting off the alarm, since he didn't know the code. I looked at the note that I'd left for him to find that my mother (who was not in the dream) had written back to me on it. I went to my bedroom and was laying in bed when I realized that someone had broken into my home. I was trying to set off my alarm by opening doors and windows that are wired into the central system but my father had broken the alarm and I could not make it go off to alert the police. The intruder caught me and I woke up in a panic.
The first thing this said to me was that my father (one of my abusers) "broke my alarm" and left me unable to protect myself when I needed to. Because of his actions, his messages, his abuse...he beat me down to a place that I didn't know how to defend myself. Nevermind HOW to defend myself....I didn't even know I deserved defending. If that was the way my father would treat father....who is supposed to be my hero, my supporter, my protector.....then how would I ever feel like I was worthy of love and respect from ANY man?
I haven't quite put my finger on the meaning of my mother writing back on the letter I left for my father. I imagine it has something to do with her trying to make up for his behavior, overcompensating to pick up his slack or trying to make excuses for keeping our family together....not quite sure. As I re-read this, I'm also seeing other nuances...while in my home, my father was sleeping, ie: there but not "present". He left before I awoke, ie: abandonment.
These are my most vivid memories of my father:

1. When he threw me down a flight of stairs because I ran the dishwasher without putting his dinner plate in it first.

2. When I came home from a date and he greeted me at the door by grabbing my wrists, twisting them so hard that I had to bend down to the ground to avoid them being broken. He demanded to know what I'd been doing with the boy. When I said we'd gone to the movies, he kept yelling "What else?? What else?? What else did you do??"

3. When I finally told about the abuse from my brother, my father confronted me and made me say that I was lying and made it up for attention. He made me apologize to my brother for saying it.

4. Our final correspondence, 8 years ago. I initiated it through a Christmas card, tried to reach out yet again and see if we could address the past. These are but a few of the "gems" he threw my way:
"Kim, I was not going to respond to your letter. It seemed totally pointless. But perhaps you are seeking some kind of closure. Many people need that. I will not address each of your comments; I do not see any merit."
"Sometime I did something that terribly hurt and angered you. You have never told me what that was. In all likelihood you believe I should know but sometimes what is devastating to one person is inconsequential to the other. "
(*Important to note…read this with MASSIVE sarcasm intended*) "It's a good thing you are doing, or have done. Ending the abuse of this family history, understanding the dysfunctional background, no doubt forgiving your brother for his behavior as he too was subjected to that same loveless, tyrannical upbringing. Yes, you should be proud of yourself for that. "
"I believe you will never understand what I feel when I say what I am about to (I guess I am speculating, which I said I wouldn't but). The last thing that you probably want or would accept; but a piece of fatherly advice….let it go. Move on with your life. You will never understand me, so let it go. "
Doesn't he make you all warm & fuzzy inside??


Enola said...

Your father sound a lot like my mother.

jumpinginpuddles said...

your father sounds a lot like so many of the abusers that abused us, no conciounce

Angel said...

I'm glad you are seeing how far you have come and seeing the insanity of his remarks for what they are.

mile191 said...

im sorry