Feb. 19th, 2015

akienm: (Default)
I remember realizing that I had the right to be angry with my dad. I was probably 34 or 35 at this point. I remember talking to a couple of different therapists about this. I remember not being able to shift anything with their help. I remember finally coming up with my own way of working through it.

I replayed that last time he hit me. I played it, but after he started to hit the 14 year old version f me, my adult self opened the man door to the garage. He stepped in, grabbed my father by the shirt front, and hit my father across the jaw with his fist. A whole body rotate and strike. Aiming past the target. Again and again. With each blow he told my father that "You. Have. No. Right. To. Do. This. You. Will. NEVER. Be. Allowed. To. Do. It. Again."

I replayed this over and over until most of the anger was gone. I was safe.

My memories of my father are complex. For the bitterness from the abuse and the lies he told, he has my contempt. For the fact that I got it less bad than he did, for building and fixing things together, for Indian Guides, for countless other things, I am grateful.


akienm: (Default)
Akien MacIain

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