I have mentioned in numerous posts when I used to blog on "My Wellbeing and Learning Journey" the effects of what happened in my childhood.
Many readers who read those posts of my counselling journey I shared there in 2018 and what I found to help with some of the difficulties I had to move forward, will know how difficult that was.
But my Family that are left will never know exactly how difficult that was. Or they will never know at all what went on.
This depends on whether family is in my life or not.
A majority are not, because growing up, they are strangers. They are not aunts or uncles in my eyes, because they were never there when I was a kid. I only seen them at funerals. They are just titles and I will never call them aunt or uncle.
As a child you were told not to speak to strangers and that's how I am with them when I found my own voice to choose who I will, or will not speak to.
My mum did not like it when I called them by their first name. But I said "I will only speak by their names. Or I won't speak at all. They are not family. They are strangers. Where were my birthday cards from them when I was growing up? They didn't come to visit."
There was only one in the blood family on dad's side of the family who I called aunt because she was there from when I was a kid until she passed away when I was a young adult. She was family and the only family on dad's side that came regularly. And she didn't have a car like the rest of them.
The other blood family remaining where only one is in touch at odd times are my mum's side of the family. My mum's side of the family is small compared to dad's.
My other family, where I called them aunt or uncle, were not immediate family. But we are related in the family tree. But in my eyes, they were more family than the others because, again, I grew up with them. I knew them more than my own because I saw them regularly. Sadly, those who I saw are not alive now.
Then I have friends who I class as family because they are there too. The few friends I have.
They knew what dad was like. But they didn't fully know
Those who said they knew what dad was like, did not fully know what he was like. I know, because when I told them, like my cousin for example, they looked shocked. She didn't realise he was bad as that.
I was always fearful of dad.
Dad has smacked me on two occasions as a young child. A time when smacking a child was acceptable. If those times had been now, he would have been in trouble for leaving a mark which was a hand print.
Now the smacks I received on those two occasions, I have no issue with. I was cheeky and deserved it. It didn't do me any harm.
The issue I have with dad is:
- The cruel treatment of my dog, Brin.
- The verbal mental abuse that he was going to hit me with the shovel when I screamed for him to stop hitting my dog with it.
Those two things I have mentioned on my previous blog and in this blog. Recently I mentioned this again in this post, "My childhood: Comprehensive school."
I wasn't allowed to show my emotions
As a child, I wasn't allowed to show my emotions in front of dad.
I could be a happy child. But if I wasn't well, there was no point telling dad. He thought I was putting it on.
I couldn't show if I was upset. Not even if I was hurt.
When I left my abusive first relationship and eventually revealed the rape part to my mum, I then learnt how I was in that Relationship, my mum was like that with dad.
- Feeling that we had to force ourselves to have sex, just to shut that person up because they want it.
- I had mental abuse in my relationship, like mum did with dad.
It's hard and energy sapping
Although my counselling in 2018 helped me greatly to move on. The effects of childhood are still there, as well as the effects from my first relationship.
Then there was the third relationship I was in that I broke off after 6 years because that relationship felt part time during all that time because of how often we met up.
Some years later, I then learnt from a news article what he was truly like, reigniting my own childhood triggers, in addition to new triggers. Also, questioning did I really miss that? Should I have seen the signs of child abuse?
It goes to show and, as professionals told me, you never know what truly goes on. Especially if it's happening inside the family unit.
So writing these kind of posts is hard and it can be energy-sapping.
I have to write slowly and in parts, to then write more later to make sure I protect myself and to reduce or prevent any triggers.
I will not have smears because I cannot stand it since I was raped in my first relationship. I did carry on with them long after that relationship. But it never got any easier.
When I read about the ex being done for child abuse, I made it known to my nurse at my doctors, that I want no more smears. After our chat, I signed the form.
Years after dad died, I also learnt from mum, in addition to the above, that if she ever left him again, he would burn the house down while we were all in it.
This was when I was 11 years old, when mum signed herself into the mental health unit, that she was going to leave him. But she came back for me. At that time, I wanted both parents and I was angry that she had disappeared without knowing where, leaving me worried overnight and the next day while at school, wondering where she was.
It was when I reached my teens that I knew we were better off without him when he died.
© "Liz's Onward Journey," by Elizabeth Fisher
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