Anxiety, art, depression, mental health

Abandonment Part 2.

Just what you need on a Saturday night eh!

So now we’ve got the curtain call on my last piece of the abandonment pie. I’m going to tell you about another one.

Let me tell you now, I am absolutely TERRIFIED about writing and publishing this one. I feel I also may need to hide it from some people (but you can’t hide on the internet! Shit!)

My Mother and Father divorced when I was 14. As divorces go, this was no Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow ‘conscious uncoupling’. There had been violence, alcohol, police, arguments and so on. All the fun stuff right?!

Now I forgive what happened, partly. But I can’t forget. My Dad left the family home for the final time. And our relationship faltered. I’d see him for an hour or 2 a week at my grandma’s house. It was weird, strange and confusing. It’s like we became strangers. Especially for a few months when, I had decided I was strong enough to stand up in court (probably shouldn’t have thought that because solicitors are mean, even to kids.)

I saw my mum try so hard to bring two children up alone, through heartbreak and hurt. I had her. Who was amazing, the woman has been through a lot shit. She even slapped cancer in the face not long after this time. But again, where had this other male figure gone from my life?

He was a good Dad, embarrassing, with crap dad jokes. But he had struggled since losing his father – and he showed some maladaptive anger.

Eventually my dad met someone else (well quite quickly really). I was diagnosed with depression and my dad just didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t there.

When I went off to uni, I passed comment on Facebook that him and his partner always go on holiday to the same place (he always said you should travel to different places and see the world.) To which I received threatening messages from his new partner (one saying I was an ungrateful T**t that should have been drowned at birth) and from her friends on Facebook. She’s always had a problem with me and my sister. Particularly me. I wasn’t even invited to my own dad’s wedding. My sister was, and she went. And I stayed at home. Unwelcome. And he didn’t fight my corner. He abandoned me.

And I can never ever forget that.

He’s supportive now, he rings me every other day. We’ve built up a relationship. But it’s a relationship that doesn’t involve his wife. She’s equally been as nasty to my sister.

She may be facing her own demons. Maybe she needs to access and accept some help. But in my eyes, she was chosen over me.

And the only man a woman often feels she has through thick and thin, is her father. And I didn’t.

So there you go (cheery isn’t it!). But just know. We are okay now, I can slightly forgive, but obviously not forget. It’s just been an added brick to my abandonment wall.

He’s still also majorly embarrassing and tells the worst jokes. I tend to laugh at him now with him (the man has his reading glasses on a bloody string around his neck!)

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