I have a problem accepting weak people. I get this from my father – who’ve I’ve most recently discovered is the mother of all wimps.
Years ago I left my husband while my son was still in diapers. I was terrified. I was scared I was going to die as well. My ex-husband had hunting equipment – including a gutting knife. But the thing that I feared the most was that my son would grow up living in a toxic environment and not learn what healthy love is.
I have a problem with fathers that dont have the same fear. I have a problem with these men because they dont defend their children. They’re so wrapped up in their fear of living alone that they allow the children to live in unhealthy and sometimes dangerous environments.
My father was the epitome of this kind of coward. While he safely went to work every day, his children were left alone with a passive aggressive psychotic whack job, and he allowed himself continually to believe that we were okay.
Years later the most atrocious facts were revealed to me that made my own sad outlook on my mother pale hideously in comparison. After struggling to process the newest information, one thought formed: my father never saved us. He could have saved us at any time, but he never did. As twenty-somethings we joked about how my father put his head in the sand whenever there was a problem with the family, but it ran much deeper than that.
I was dating a great guy with a wife who sounded similar to my mother. After months of brainwashing by her, he’s now walking in my father’s shoes. He’s not saving his kids.
As a child of psychological abuse, it’s devastating to know children may be in similar situations, and I so desperately want to help them. But I’m nobody in their lives. At this point I can only pray that he finds his strength again before his children end up like my father’s.
But I have a problem sitting back and waiting to see if that day will ever come.