Daddy Issues (Part 1 - The Early Years)

Daddy Issues

Recently, I was challenged to share my story in a series of writings. I am going to do this, because there are many people out there that are struggling in their adult lives, because of this subject. It is my hope that my own transparency on the subject will help many to find healing and will cause us to ponder some things, open up, and begin to talk about this issue.  

I grew up in central New York. My home life was far from perfect. My dad was physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive to my mom. My brother and sister, who were adopted by my dad, as they were born to my mom's first husband, also received a horrific amount of mental and emotional abuse. Because I was so young, I escaped most of the direct abuse. However, I have not so fond memories of the countless times I saw my mom get punched, hit, beaten, and screamed at. My relationship with my dad, while slightly better than my siblings, was still strained and very awkward. How do you love someone that hurts the other people you love? It is very confusing. 

Because I was so young, I remember less than my mom and siblings, but I still remember. I do know that my mom, sister, and brother did their best to protect and shelter me from the horrors of the abuse. I have one vivid memory of my sister protecting me, and my brother protecting her and I from one of my dad's many tirades. This was the day everything changed. It was the longest day ever. To the best of my memory, the abuse started early in the day and went on and on into the night.  

This was the day my brother nearly killed my dad and I do not blame him. He was a teenager trying to protect his mother from being killed. My sister’s job was to call for help and keep me down stairs. After many times of the phone being taken off the hook and unplugged, somehow my sister was able to call for help. My uncle and grandfather came to the rescue. 

I still remember my uncle pinning my dad to the floor, while we all ran for our lives. We left with nothing but the clothes on our backs. We lived in the country and our house was 600 feet from the road, so we ran all the way to the road, where my grandfather was waiting for us in his station wagon. I am so thankful for him, because he took us in and helped my mom to get her own place.  

We were free of the immediate abuse, but now the nightmares began. The mind has a way of protecting itself in times of shock and stress, but after everything calms down around you, the reality of all that happened settles in. The hard part was navigating these thoughts, memories, and feelings, while having a relationship with the man that caused it all. 

It was beyond awkward, to say the least. I would spend weekends with my dad, trying to have a normal relationship. What exactly is normal about having a relationship with the man that tore your family apart? I tried to make the best of it, because I really did want that elusive relationship with my dad. It’s something every kid wants, no matter how bad their dad is. We want to think the best of him, because he is our dad. So, for a little while you forget. You stuff the memories, fears, anxiety, etc. to go fishing, go roller skating, go to the movies, or to a picnic.

It was 1986 when my mom decided to move us to South Carolina. So, I saw my dad even less then, which was a blessing in disguise. Instead of spending every weekend with him, it was now just the summer. The relationship was still strained.

Continued...