Trauma Healing

There is absolute truth to this. I don’t think there’s much else I can say about it. Other than it’s pretty sad. But it is also the absolute truth. Every fiber of your being is completely denied when you’re a child dealing with an unhealed parent.

I used to hold some pretty heavy grudges against my parents. Mainly my dad. But since he passed away in 2009 I’ve only had my mother to deal with, and let’s just face it, her and I have always had a tumultuous relationship.

I forgave my dad. It was easier to forgive him than it has been to forgive my mother. The reasoning behind that is I feel my dad apologized to me in his own way. And with that apology came change on his part. And well, when he changed I saw him differently. He was no longer the monster. He was actually pretty frail and dependent.

My mom and dad had a house fire back when I was in my early 30’s I believe(?). Anyway, my dad ended up with severe burns to his face and arms. How so you ask? Well, the fire started on my youngest sister’s bed somehow. It was my understanding that she was flicking her lighter while being in bed and somehow that started her mattress on fire. My dad, being the way he was, tried to save the house by carrying the mattress out the door. Well, once the mattress got oxygen it engulfed into flames, and my dad carried it out of the house like that. Yes, my dad was pretty…… Brave.

I don’t know why he didn’t let that house burn to the ground. There are nothing but bad memories and negative vibes when I touch foot on that property. I feel like he’s left a scar to everybody in that household. But I do forgive him. He didn’t know what was going on. He had a mental illness. That doesn’t change how it affected me though. Or others.

I do love my dad. I don’t mean to talk bad about him. I’m just being honest. That’s what makes me the black sheep. I tell the truth. When everybody else wants silence.

I loved my dad. I didn’t know it at the time of his death, but my five (5) year binge drinking told the honest truth. I was suffering over it. And I still, to this day, don’t understand why his death profoundly affected me the way it did.