1/8

(wrote this as an open letter to my dad. he'll prolly never read it. lessons already paid for, someone here may as well benefit from it)

Dad.

I love you. You've inspired me to be a better person than I thought I could be. I named my 1st born after you. I had always thought that you had a saintly amount of empathy, and despaired my lack. But. I found a way to be the best me I could be.

That brings me to our problem. That whole conversation in the front yard was for YOUR benefit. The info I was sending you to research; YOUR benefit. The topics that I had asked, suggested and finally required you to study up on; YOUR benefit. To get you ready. For that conversation. Months. So that you would have the conceptual framework to understand the difficult Truth that I was going to have to lay in your lap. I was doing everything that I could to build a situation that would maximize the chances for a positive result. But you failed. You didn't do your due diligence. You fed from the empty trough; "I know what I need to know already." You pretended that I couldn't have something worth paying attention to or caring about. You were/are wrong.

When you said that you had done no reading; heart sank. When you said that you had done none of the research; soul ache. But, teh plans of mice and men…so. You did at least think about one thing I had asked of you; forgive and forget. You said that you had changed your answer. That you couldn't forget. Because that would risk falling into a repetition of wrong. When you said that, you looked inward. At an instance that you will not forget, though you pretend to forgive. You looked back to something in our shared past that you've been led to believe happened. But it's a lie.

You said you know me. That you've known me. Remember what I said? "You don't know me. You've never known me." That is the TRUTH. You've never even looked at me. The whole image of who I am in your mind is formed from a projection from mom, cast through a web of lies. And you've preferred it that way. Turned away from me every time you've been confronted with data that points out a flaw in your chosen reality.

During that conversation we had, you looked inward at three things that I said. One was mentioned above. Let me detail the other two. "You don't owe me an apology, you owe dad one for letting him carry the lies in his mind for all these years." You looked in and saw those lies you know to be (but turn away from). Then, shortly later, "I bet she never even told you what happened that night I ran." Again, inward looking; seeing that, in fact, she'd never (even once), said what had happened.

Aren't you at all curious about the fundamental schism in our family? Your, apparent, incuriosity to what is happening in your own life has hurt those you are charged with protecting. Your children. Your grandchild. Your wife, my mom. While you are white-knighting for her feelings, who is looking out for her? Hmm? Are you trying to protect mom, or her feelings? Well, her feelings. Right spirit, kid; wrong tack.

Remember what I said about the stone marker we were building before we started talking? Wanted to mark the place. Important conversation, never wanted to forget. Daily reminder. There was another, unstated, reason for the marker. It has been tradition, time immemorial, to mark the spot of a miracle with a pile of stones. I knew I was going to see one, I just didn't know how it was going to present. Point of fact, what we got wasn't the one I was /praying for; Most High does what He does (muh forgin, shapin, sharpenin and polishin). I was trying for that dream/win scenario; mom sees the error of her ways, repents the wrongs, and makes right.

The miracle that we got, instead, was mom's true face. Flat affect, "three whites" to her eyes leanin away at about 35deg. Folks in mom's boat have an over-riding fear/desire; to be seen. They long to be seen, acknowledged, recognized for their pain and sacrifice. But they fear it because of the wrongs that they do, and the lies they tell. I laid an allegation on mom that she never thought she'd have to face. That charge laid bare the entire pattern of behavior going back many decades. She knew that I saw her. The wrongs she's done. And that I will not turn away. So. The face of blank terror.

2/8

It was your seeing her look that spurred you to end the conversation and confront me. You babbled some nonsense about "faith" in people. Pah. Remember my response to every excuse you threw up at me as to why you were not going to listen/pay attention to the issue? "My child". "My child". "My child". Instead of investigating what I was talking about, your eyes widened in realization that I wasn't just talking some talk, but walkin a walk. That I had data on my side. I had logic, reason, critical thought, free from logical fallacies; TRUTH. All you had were a lifetime of lies intentionally chosen and protected over reality.

In your shoes I can understand the retreat. I was droppin a TAC-nuk on your fantasy world and you couldn't so much as wave a fly swatter in response. After just an afternoon with my mother (unsupervised) at the birth of my #2, my #1 child went from "I would like a sandwich please" to grunts. Became terrified of the changing table. Refused to allow anyone to touch their privates. Do you know how hard it is to change the diaper of a toddler when you can't clean their privates? Changing my child, before that day, was a time of fun, comfort, caring, attention and love that became a terrifying experience. One that continually re-shattered that innocent little mind.

All this from just ONE diaper change with my mother. Where were you, by the way? There's no way that my child experienced the pain and fear they did without making a sound. What ridiculously transparent excuse/lie did you get from her? I'm not going to carry the wrong that lady spreads any longer. You don't need to believe what I say, but you're a damned fool if you ignore it. Mom is ill. You are not helpin her. You are enabling the progression of her illness. Granted, I'm not a Cabal approved head shrinker, but I can recognize a pattern of behavior when I see it.

She used to lay out arbitrary punishments and restrictions when I was a kid and call it "tough love". My life a chapter in her own personal pick and choose buffet style self help book. I guess all kids get a bit of that. That's not what this was. Looking back with open, understanding eyes, she was a drug addict and a person suffering from a debilitating self hatred. Unable to face either issue but happy to attempt to destroy anyone that threatened her projected image of self. She hurt me. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Ok. Good game, lady. She hurt my child; Game Over. I thought that pretending she was not sick and preventing her access to my kids was good enough. Self deception at it's finest, if I do say so myself. No longer.

For folks struggling with borderline personality, "deserve" is at the root of it. Them doing whatever they want and lying about it, if necessary, because they "deserve" x,y,z. Punishing others because "deserve" it. You remember what mom said as she got into the truck as you whisked her away? "I begged you not to leave". But I did leave. What she was saying there was, "you didn't do what I wanted. so you deserve a lifetime of grief from your family for something that never even happened".

Has she told you yet? I doubt it. Why do I doubt it? For the same reason that I knew she didn't tell you before. I knew she didn't tell you ~180 seconds after you got home. That's about the time it took you to absorb the sight of mom blathering on the floor, "they left, boo hoo hoo," (probably waved a broken golf visor as evidence of the seriousness); then haul ass to catch me. Did you know that I only beat you to the tree line by about 10-15 seconds? I was only about 35-40m into the woods. I heard you just fine. I knew that she hadn't told you what happened because you were threating to kill me with your bare hands. Saying, "I am going to kill you," is not a rational response to what occurred. Ipso facto, she didn't tell you the truth.

3/8

You should know what happened. So, an excerpt from my journal.

"…our phone got shut off. My mother was in real estate at the time, and that was…a problem for her. It's not that we didn't have the money, she just forgot or didn't bother or whatever. At the time I was talking to my steady out of state a lot, and was racking up some long distance bills. That's the primary reason that I had a job… The procedure was for Mom to tell me what I owed, and I would pay her. She didn't. So I didn't. Had the money, but no bill. Anyways.

She, as usual, lost her shit (dontcha love what opioids do to self control?). I reminded her that although it was my responsibility to pay HER it was HER responsibility to tell me what to pay; phone bill came to her and she had to pay IT. Obviously pointing out where others are wrong is a fault of mine, especially when I am being blamed… so she did the only logical thing; she boxed my ears. Totally deaf. Couldn't hear a thing. So here's this skinny little lady screaming at the top of her lungs, having just assaulted me, for something that was HER fault and I couldn't help but see how hilarious it was. So naturally I laughed. Hard.

Another pattern of my life…seeing humor in things even when others would rather I not…Can you guess what she did? I'm sure there's no need, but I will tell ya anyways. She straight up attacked me. Took off her stupid plastic golf visor and started bashing me across the face. When it broke, of course, I couldn't stop laughing, just made the hilarity even worse…so doing the only logical thing she could come up with she drove her hooker nails into my forearms, like claws. Drawing a fair amount of blood. At the time, pain was a close friend, so… muh laughing. I did have enough sense to realize that she was only going to escalate from there, and she might start to do actual harm…so I (still deaf from the shock my ears took from her cupped hand hitting them again and again like a riding crop to the rear of a horse at gallop) turned and walked away.

Went into my room, and started packing a duffle bag with some work clothes. After she snatched it away and threw it out of my room, my hearing started to return. I was past paying attention; let's just say lunatic screeching. So I grabbed another bag, added more clothes. Since it was my last bag, with my last shoes, and last work clothes handy I held onto this bag when she tried a repeat. "What to do" she must have wondered. So she attacked me again.

Climbed onto my back like that described spider monkey in Talladega Nights and tried to choke me out…I didn't even notice her weight, and she didn't have the arm strength to choke me, so just a lot of noise and show really. But, it was going to be hard to get away from the house with a psychotic spider monkey impersonator on my back… I didn't want to hurt my mom. It would have been really easy to. I didn't. But. I had to get her off my back. I decided to use the minimum force required and put my back to the wall and gently leaned. After a minute she realized, I guess, that she wasn't going to kill me by choking me and she let go. I ended up walking out of the house with her clinging to my leg screeching for me not to go…insane. For the next 2 weeks I couch surfed when I could, and slept in bushes when I couldn't. Going to work every day (needed the money for a plane ticket out of town).

The day before my flight, a friend of my mothers came into the grocery store that I worked in. She said, "hi" as she normally did. Then saw me. And asked what the hell had happened to me. Ya see, I still had marks on my face from the thrashing of the plastic sun visor. I still had 4 quarter moon shaped wounds on each forearm (from ma's claws). So I told her, in a nutshell, what had happened. When that lady confronted my mother, since she couldn't deny the evidence of the ladies own eyes, Mom just pretended that the lady didn't exist. Never spoke to her again. Ma did come down to work though… Caused quite the scene at the front end of the store… When she said that she "could call the police have me arrested and get me sent away to military school", (her go to threat at that time, smh) I told her to do what she had to do, but. 'If you do that, putting me on that bus will be the last time you ever see me'. She didn't. I left town."

4/8

I knew you didn't know the truth because you didn't apologize to me. You didn't beg me to come home. You didn't swear to get mom the help that she so obviously needs. No. You threatened to kill me. Based on, effectively, zero data; FEELINGS. Speaking of behavioral patterns; that's one. Getting so wrapped around the axle (mom's feelings) that you half climbed over the front seat of our car to put your hands around my neck. While you were sitting in the driver's seat. Driving down the road. You didn't see the gleam in her eyes when you did that. Just a flash of it before she grabbed (not you) the steering wheel from the passenger seat. I wasn't a bad kid, dad.

If one listened to mom's version of me; just short of needing to be institutionalized; delinquent. All lies. I did normal kid stuff. Didn't get into trouble. But if one were to try to point that out it would conflict with the "approved" version of things. Or do you think that felonious assaults in response to smart assed teenaged flippancy is appropriate? When I left that day, I wasn't running from mom. I was running from YOU.

I knew that there was no way that you would be rational about mom's state. You would react violently to her emotional shriek. I knew you'd be home, and soon. Good thing I was in shape. Had 3.5 miles to go to get off the one and only road out of the community. You saw me at 2.5 miles done. You made it home and back in the time it took me to sprint ~ half a mile. 3-4 minutes tops. My runnin kept you from doing something irrevocable. Kept me from having to do something regrettable to protect myself. Allowed for the situation to stabilize.

Do you remember the 1st thing you said to me when I came back almost a year later? "Never speak of it"; the "incident" that caused me to choose flight over life and death struggle. The ticket price into the family was swearing to never bring up that terrible wrong I’d suffered. To just accept it. And shut up about it. It was a devil's bargain. Ultimately one that my child had to pay the cost of… unacceptable.

If people like mom are psychological weapons, it's people like you that are the enforcers of the delusion. Dad, I presented you with a Golden opportunity; a black white choice; face the truth or turn away. You turned away. From a grandchild that had been terrified and hurt by your wife. From a true innocent that couldn't lie if they had to. How can a young child communicate that something terrible happened?

Aside from the already mentioned, there are more lingering effects. Every time my child sees mom, regresses in some way. Whether it's forgetting how to talk, that they're potty trained, or how to tie shoes, though the worst are nightmares that they have no context for; all have impact. They don't understand why those things happen. Pediatrician said we'd probably have to get counseling later on, but for now continue to be good parents and shower them with love, support, and patient understanding. I do the best I can.

Can you imagine how heartbreaking it is to watch your child forget something? To be filled with confusion and uncertainty because they can't figure out how to ties the shoes they've been tying for years? To be filled with the thought, "I must be stupid". From just seeing mom through the window. Never even spoke to her.

5/8

So before trying to figure out why I am doing this, I would submit that you should probably know what it is that I've done. You think you know but you’re wrong. I took all the wrongs that have been done or ignored by this family and laid them at your feet. I stood and looked into your face, and put down the lies you've insisted I carry. I took the dream of you all being a loving caring attentive family and laid it on the alter of Truth; a sacrifice. I did everything possible to show that it's serious. I prayed, and continue to pray, that it would be enough to get you to face your challenge.

It's up to you and Most High at this point. Don't think the Maker was paying attention? Would beg to differ. We saw a miracle. So. At least a High Rep was present. Didn't see one? They generally don't announce themselves during tests of character… We never know when we're being tested by angels. Do you recall what I said the other purpose of the piled stones was? To act as a gate. Through which you would all have to pass in order for you to enter my life. All but one of you stepped on that threshold and made me a promise.

"I promise to be a good person and to do the right thing. I promise to help others be good people, and to help them to do the right thing." That might have been an empty worded promise to you, but it wasn't to me. Something tells me that I Am that I Am didn't see it as hollow words. Why? You were stepping into a temple dedicated to doing the Right thing. A church of our Father, "wherever 3 or more gather". In my home we teach and we behave according to two simple rules; love the Alpha/Omega above all others and love each other as our selves. You agreed, you promised, to follow His rules to come into my life. My family's life.

Then you turned away. Immediately broke that promise. The sacrifice required too high a price for you to pay. Being a good person isn't free from cost. In THIS family, we pay whatever the cost. Even if that means some dreams have to die.

It's up to you, dad. Whether that dream I have dies. It's up to you whether you help mom, or not. If you turn your back on your responsibility as a grandfather, a father, a husband and a man… well… good luck. Perhaps you have some "good works" that I remain unaware of that will offset the lifetime of willful blindness and deafness. To somehow balance your helping mom to maintain her prison of the mind. To allay the terrible price my child had to pay due to your steadfast insistence on fantasy over reality.

You have a serious problem dad. If you don't do the work, make the sacrifices required, mom is not going to be judged well. You will not be judged well. None of you will. You have the opportunity to save all of you. In the now and hereafter.

Because I love, I can no longer ignore the things that the people I love do to themselves and others that cause harms. All I am capable of doing is pointing out the wrongs and show that I am willing to do the work to help. Seek. Knock. Ask, dad. I put you at the door. You turned away. It's still there. Waiting. Repent the wrongs, turn from away; to.

Patterns. Of behavior. yours. mom's. mine. Yours is incuriosity. Mom's is the insistence that all within her sphere submit to her will. Mine? Submit? lol. Yeah, right. That is the dynamic that's existed since before you came into our lives. That battle. Doubt it? Shouldn't. Examples abound.

6/8

Let's start at the beginning (more or less). Mom would describe this incident as me "getting out", like I was a dog or something. Let me tell you the real story. I was, after all, there. ~26 months old. Biological parents are fighting constantly. Man laughing at the "feelings" of the woman. The woman trying to, regularly, kill the man in response (not sure how else one would describe someone chasing another around an apartment with a big kitchen knife trying to stick it in while banshee screaming about killing, other than trying to kill)… One day, after another day of the above, man locks himself in his room (literally) and woman takes off to God knows where. There I was. 26months old. Seeing this. Watching this. Knowing that this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. On this day, I'd had enough. I grabbed some crackers and my sippy cup, put them into a lunch pail pushed a chair up to the front door, unlocked the dead bolt, opened the door and left. Got on my trike and went looking for what life was supposed to be. For real. Said "fuck this, I'm out". Thankfully, God has a soft spot for children and fools, for I was both.

Old cat in a golf cart stopped next to me while I was peddling down the road and started talking to me. Asked me where I was going. Said I was running away. He noted my pail, commented on the wisdom of bringing something to eat and drink, but also pointed out that there is a lot I don't know yet. He asked if I wanted a ride. I got one. Right back home. I was mad at that. But. He was explaining on the way that there are people in the world that are even worse than my parents. They would protect me from those people. That it might be a good idea to stick around for awhile to see what's what. He was right. Even my toddler mind could grasp that.

But the battle of wills. Moms story vs reality. I refused to go along with her version; so no more trike. /womp womp. And thusly, the pattern was cemented in place for the rest of our lives. A reality she didn't like, and punishing me for noticing the truth. The next example involves you in the role of man.

Do you remember what I was like as an 8 year old kid? Shy, insecure, sad… Crying through the nights, soaking my pillow with tears. Mostly not remembering my dreams (except the ones that I did). Wetting my bed. Do you recall that this behavior was a sudden change? Maybe not. I was, surprisingly, a pretty happy go-lucky child before then.

She'd ask me about what I was dreaming about that would make me cry so hard, so often. The dream that I could remember was a recurring one. Always the same. Hunted by a man-wolf thing. Finally caught. Held down. Disemboweled and eaten alive. Unable to wake. That dream would last forever. Flesh being torn, ripped, chewed and consumed. Watching and feeling it all. Mom liked to say that I was having a hard time with the divorce. She'd get frustrated with me when I couldn't remember my dream, and would totally discount the terrors I had when I could recall. Write it all off. She felt I was resisting her will by not answering. Easier to blame it on something that SHE was going through. Something that SHE was CHOOSING. My life; about HER.

Not at all the truth. Do you remember that time (at 8) I punched her dad in the face? Do you remember me saying that I never wanted to go back there again? Do you remember what your wife's response to it all was? I wouldn't/couldn't tell her the details of why I did it, so instead of doing her parental due diligence, she said, "tough, you're going". Again, I was resisting her will.

Were you at all curious why, at 8, I punched my grandfather in the face? As a shy, insecure, sad kid that had been so brainwashed by mom that I was picked on at school because I wouldn't defend myself. She'd beat me with kitchen utensils (sometimes breaking them) while telling me hitting was wrong. What could that man have said to me to initiate a response like that…

7/8

Let me set the scene for you, since you weren't there, and probably never even asked about it (incuriosity, remember). For some reason her dad had put a 7 and 8 year old down for a nap in his room. I remember him coming in and standing over us while we were laying in bed. He looked at me, and said, "it's time. If you don't play ball, then it's your sibling's turn". My little mind broke. My little heart broke. But. My pattern. I was willing to be hurt in order to keep my sibling safe from his predation. But he threatened to invalidate that deal. He asked to see the me that couldn't be defeated; couldn't surrender. He asked to meet the Will inside of me.

So, my little ass stood up on that bed, got eye to eye with a grown fucking MAN and hauled off and punched him in the face. As though I were a grown adult I confronted that evil man. Over my dead body will you hurt the ones I love; the thought shot through me from top to bottom inside and out. Even if the last thing I was to see was the wide eyed surprise on that guy's face; no option.

The spanking that I got from my grandmother was inconsequential compared to the wrongs that had been ongoing. The spanking that I got was not even an annoyance in comparison to the betrayal from mom. The woman tasked with providing for and protecting me; abandoning me to harm. Because I would not submit to her question, "why". She saw my lack of answer as resisting her will. But good news, I never had that bed wetting problem again and the recurring dream faded away over the next few years.

This however, didn't end the pattern of terrible wrongs from mom. The list is frickin endless. Surgery because I was annoying her with sniffles (yeah, it was intentional on my part). Didn't matter that I had stopped sniffling weeks before the hospital stay; decision made. She learned to draw some benefit from that… so unnecessary medical procedures became the norm. Recall how many teeth I had pulled to avoid the braces that I ended up with anyways (12-13)? My frickin teeth worked fine. What benefit was she gleaning? I bet you know the answer to that one. Money from the man that put me in her? Pain pills that I never got? Huh?

People in her life going through a hell of her making, she skimming off the top. Pitting siblings against each other. You against us all. You doing whatever you had to do to put her emotions in check. Her heavy. The enforcer. Jesus, dad, she was stealing birthday/Christmas/Easter presents, returning them, and keeping the money for herself! The man that she had been married to gave us gifts. We never got to keep a single one. He'd buy the nicest version of whatever, then she'd swap it for the dime store knock off and pocket the difference. Eventually we even lost that. He just stopped sending gifts home with us. She "deserved" and we didn't.

Dad, later in life, she'd beg/steal any pain meds I had from whatever one of the injuries received. I had a 2nd degree burn on my foot from an accident at work. I refused pain meds to keep them away from her. Do you know how painful burn therapy is? They thought I was nuts. To this day, through my service injuries and later life, the most painful experience I've ever undergone. Repeatedly. Think lightning-fire filling your whole body exploding in your mind. Went through that to keep her from stealing my prescription (home on leave same deal, dad, beggin for flexeril).

Lies. Cheats. Steals. Mom. It wasn't just the kids she was mistreating. Might want to re-examine your memory about that "yoga" instructor, just saying. It doesn't matter how comforting the lies may be; LIES!

Thankfully I met the most amazing man in the service. He taught me to pay attention to reality, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. He bought that lesson with his life, and I almost died trying to save him. But you probably don't care about that. That lesson goes against the pattern that you've chosen for your family and life.

It doesn't have to be that way, though. It's never too late. You can always choose to do the Right thing. I destroyed the bridge between your family and mine. Glazed the shore on both sides. Made rebuilding in the same place, in the same way impossible. However, I love you all. If you seek Right, I will be here. If you knock on that door, if you ask for the help you'll need, I will be here.

A wise man would forget that he knows anything at all. A wise man would get on his knees, and beg our Father, Good God Most High, to help. He knows that I've prayed for you. Even with all that help on your side it won't be easy. In biblical times what mom is suffering from was called possession. Acting from an agency not her own.

With the faith held by Mary Magdalene and the persistent, repeated, efforts of Jesus (with the Grace of our Lord God) she was freed. With faith it's possible. With eyes wide open you're going to have to go into that self manufactured Hell and get mom; her prison of the mind. Watch "What Dreams May Come" for an idea of the challenge. You're not the only one to confront this problem, dad. It's more common than you can imagine. I've been baby stepping one I love very much out of that very same Hell.

A full cup holds no more, knock the bottom out of that illusionary cup. Open yourself to learning. Invite in reality. Turn away from the illusions that have ruled and soured your life. I don't want my dream of an open, loving, honest and uprightly righteous family to die. But, it's in your hands. To redeem the sacrifices you've made or not is your choice. "If not you, who? If not now, when?"

I love you. I love mom.

SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER SAVE HER