First draft of a new poem - contributions welcomed....
I find it most distasteful
That spiders leave the cadaverous carcasses abandoned,
Sucked of their life,
The web starts to look rather macabre.
Who would want to live there?
The black widow sits in the middle,
But these
Eye spy from a dark corner,
One sensitive toe on the vibrator thread,
Patiently waiting for a luscious sucker.
On Thursday my dad called and left a message on my answer machine. It was playing on my mind. I was too late to call back and anyway. So there was the essence of fear across my existence until I called him back on Friday evening.
Before I made the call I didn't stop and consider how I was. A mistake. I need to stop and make this consideration and get myself supported and level. I was too complacent after recent times when he has been
My first mistake was to have opened a letter from the RAC saying that they had not received my returned car insurance policy so have not refunded the large sum of money yet. My first thought is that it's a conspiracy and a way to just keep my money longer. Like I think it was a conspiracy that they did not have the details of accidents in the last 5 years (that incidentally were not my fault), for which I am penalised grossly and something that seems unfair, increasing my insurance cost beyond what is reasonable in my opinion. So at the moment they have a lot of my money and I am struggling financially. Hence I had called and asked my dad, taking much courage but also shame inducing, to ask him if I could borrow some money to tide me over. I was on a back foot. I have felt pride that I have taken care of myself without him for these last 10 years. I have taken responsibility of my money. Oh and the trouble I have had makes so much sense now looking at the implications of bi-polar. Irrational spending and out of control. For so long have needed help and yet within my family I was just punished.
So back to the point. Although all points are relevant. ....
The point is that I felt angry and powerless with the RAC and scared that I am going to lose the money which every penny matters a lot to me right now. So I was walking through my flat muttering "bastards, bastards, bastards" I felt very stitched up all round by them and hate that feeling of injustice. The big boys always win and I and others like me are always poor, poorer, poorest. Will do my bit and then will have to let go and trust. At least I am able to identify the anger in me and let it pass acknowledged and not suppressed. I have a call to make to them - that's my part then. It's for some reason always difficult for me to actually make calls to what I perceive are people in power. Having said that I have managed to call my GP, the care co-ordinator and left a message with my Psych's PA to request he calls me. And I rationally explained my situation with the meds.
Yes, I felt uncomfortable with my request. My dad had agreed and said to call at the end of this month to make the arrangements. In the message he had left on my answer machine he stated that he had sent my card. And following his conversation with me on the last occasion we met he had said I was not to mention anything on the phone or write to thank him etc as he didn't want his wife, Theresa, to know anything about what he does. So I assumed the mention of the card meant he had sent me a cheque. I was rather hoping it was a gift - which it turns out to be but I found that out after a lot of angst about other matters. I will get there and explain. So also before phoning him back, I opened the envelope and a cheque dropped out. A very generous £500. I had to look closely as the numbers looked like he had written a six yet the written word looked like five. His writing is very spidery. I wonder where he was taught as I have never seen writing like it anywhere else and usually there is a basic style. I suppose if I screw my eyes and don;t where glasses there could be a link with Italic. I was taught italic at junior school and developed my own style I suppose which is nothing like italic now.
So I was looking at the guilt evoking cheque. The guilt is mine but of course the whole interaction of a lifetime with my dad and money does contribute to why I feel guilty and ashamed.
THEN ... he said and bring those photographs or else .....
My first reaction was that I had already taken him the photographs. And I do feel sure that I have. He said no I haven't so repeated bring them or else. I felt uncertain then and as if I had been so naughty was a bad person. Back-footed. So I raised my voice (which was the start of me not liking how I become with him). But within all that happened next I maintained my boundaries. I said there was no need to threaten me and asked what he meant by or else? He said he wasn't threatening me and I repeated to him his words. He flustered. I also said that if he could remember when he was throwing away everything from his and mums house after she died, and at this point I could feel the real hurt rising fast and started to feel tearful, that he hadn't wanted the photographs and was going to burn them. So I had taken them all. I said that I had them in a suitcase and had thrown away a lot of the scenery photos and just kept the people. I also explained that they were out of an y order. I still feel certain I have given him the photographs. He assured me he would return them and that he just wanted to take some copies of particular photos. I have not had back the photos I have already given him and I know I have as I remember at this moment now the photos I found.
When I said the word mum I started crying. It's all so painful still but of course not as bad as it was. It's just added to because I have so much grievance with my dad. It's like I lose my mum every time. Him marrying so soon after she died and getting rid of their home as quickly as possible has all looked to me like he couldn't wait to get away from that life. And of course the cutting contact with anyone they had ever known together - and sometimes he has nearly done it with me so many times. I feel rejected every time and unlovable. It hurts so badly. The little child in me needing parental love and safety. Never has been there.
And then he moaned. He said Oh don't cry. And of course I now how he hates sniveling people because that's what he has always said. He has always called me sniveller. And referred to his mother as a sniveller and I could hear the contempt in his voice. So more messages subtly passed on. He said calm down and he would call back in a few minutes. I said I just felt hurt and sad that's all. I explained that I was going out so would see him Sunday as arranged, and at that point he changed it to 12 at The Red Lion Chalton, where we have met before for a meal. It's averagely OK. There probably won;t be any tables though as for some reason it's popular. I said OK see you then and as I was putting the phone down I could hear him talking. As I put the phone down the hurt changed into rage. Explosive rage.
I was aware from all that I have been doing with SC that I needed to contain the rage as it was murderous. And with me feeling angry at myself for crying ( although I have since changed my mind about the crying ) and for raising my voice I could easily turn that in on me. Murder him or murder me and as I would not murder him ( well not as yet anyway, never say never, especially as apparently a high percentage of murders are by people the victims know well - I can't remember the proportion right now) it could easily turn into self harming etc. Every birthday for some reason there is an incident with my dad and I am not sure if it is the birthday or the money. When he gave me money towards the purchase of my car he was just rude about me to the salesman. Rude actually is an understatement, he was abusive and completely inappropriate.
So I sent a text to ML, with many, many expletives. She invited me to call by saying that she could listen. I needed to leave to get to the meeting, even though now I didn't want to go. I felt the rage and the power that comes with that. I drove crazily and ranted on and on about him and what he had said and things he had done - all the resentments exploding out of me including mention of his wife. On and ON driving far too fast so much so that I was way too early for the meeting when I had thought I would be late. Under normal circumstances I would have been.
So I sat and ranted more. Then I made ML and myself laugh as I said that with my dad being such a bigot and prejudiced, I would give the money he had given to me, to a charity involving black people or something and get them to write a letter of thanks to him. He would explode!!!!! ML asked me to consider this before I did. I was still in rage but laughed at myself. Of course incidents such as this would arouse the rage in me - all the terror and anger from my childhood but I would explode mildly directly with him because he would hit me or be more verbally abusive and crush me. So I would leave and in rage the power would become rebellion which over the years grew and grew with more destructive behaviours. So this would easily have become a purge first of any food, violently with masses and masses of laxatives. Then I would drive erratically and dangerously into London, get very drunk and drugged up and find someone to "shag" and I use that word with the violence and disgust that it sounds like anyway. My dad calls it shagging - women who just shag anyone including me. He "shagged" me but seems to forget that somehow.
I feel so much emotion as I am writing this. I cried when writing the word my mum, all sorts of memories of her and how much I miss her. How for so long she was in the middle of all of this. Yet she never seemed to do anything to stop it. I think she tried with my dad then she would try and persuade me to fall into line. Grrr forever it's been such a fucking nonsense. And now I am feeling both incredibly sad yet fucking furious. I am typing at a speed.
So I got to the AA meeting and the chair shared about anger as a trigger. I shared back about the prior events and emotions and what might have happened in the past but what I had done instead - containment, support from a friend and a meeting and how the enormity of the rage was subsiding. Success!
I was writing to that friend this morning after having been out last night and here is the copy of my texts......
Well it's a long time since I have got back from a night out dancing at this time. Thank you for coming tonight. Sorry you felt uncomfortable and needed to go. I know that so well. I am too old as feel Knackered like I used after two weeks of out and about with snatches I'd sleep. Hug x
I have just realised that I need to be careful from a different angle when I meet my dad today. Thankfully I have considered how I am feeling after expressing my feelings with my dad and setting a boundary with his threatening and abusive manner. After he apologised I felt empowered and also amazed - and an excitement has emerged too. On the outside I feel calm but inside I am still raging. It is taking a new shape and it's as if now the enemy is down I can get him calmly and easily inflicting fatal injuries cruelly. Its what he does to me - wields one de saying blow and whilst I am writhing in pain and weak jabs with more just enough to leave me alive but fatal nonetheless. So how do I behave. I do not want to do this. I have done it before with him i know. Gleefully find his Achilles heel and attack. I am thinking I must try and stay with my feelings but at the moment I feel powerful. This also leaves me vulnerable because he will be looking to attack me back. I get caught unaware. It all sounds like a battlefield but it has always been a feeling of attack and defence. How do I behave to enable me to step out of the war. Be me but lose
sense of me in the I have just realised that I need to be careful from a different angle when I meet my dad today. Thankfully I have considered how I am feeling after expressing my feelings with my dad and setting a boundary with his threatening and abusive manner. After he apologised I felt empowered and also amazed - and an excitement has emerged too. On the outside I feel calm but inside I am still raging. It is taking a new shape and it's as if now the enemy is down I can get him calmly and easily inflicting fatal injuries cruelly. Its what he does to me - wields one devastating blow and whilst I am writhing in pain and weak jabs with more just enough to leave me alive but fatal nonetheless. So how do I behave. I do not want to do this. I have done it before with him i know. Gleefully find his Achilles heel and attack. I am thinking I must try and stay with my feelings but at the moment I feel powerful. This also leaves me vulnerable because he will be looking to attack me back. I get caught unaware. It all sounds like a battlefield but it has always been a feeling of attack and defence. How do I behave to enable me to step out of the war. Be me but lose defensive/murderous rage. Just realised it means being me in sense of I love art and music. I enjoy trying to sketch. I like attempting to write poetry and am amazed by the wonder of micro creations in our body. In awe at the creation going on in us. I am challenged by living on a daily basis and live in fear. I have great people in my life. I am ashamed of my status - so little to show for my successful business life in the past. Yet also OK with the lack of burden possessions can bring to me. I am both excited and afraid by my mental health. Wanting to learn how to blossom from it rather than be shacked by it. I danced last night - felt free and energised rising through the screaming paranoia. Can't always do that though and that's OK too. Who else am I?
I am not a person who wants or likes to inflict pain when someone is down. I wouldn't do that to anyone - so I need to contain the rage in all it's manifestations. I am so hurt and desperate to be loved and know I am
Lovable which leaves me vulnerable with only childlike defences in an adult body and mind. I never want to be cruel only understanding and kind. I want to find compassion for my dad without that meaning my boundaries become mush again.
So more realisation - I have a picture in my head of a bird of pray attacking another bird in the air. I can see it in my mind's eye. It's such a vicious fight, and looks horrendous and frightening. Then one bird falls, straight down incurring even more devastating injuries. The the bird of prey sits on his victim and pecks away or stabs with its claws but still not killing it.
I do not want to enter into the fight int he first place but sometimes I am required to beat away the attack and hope to develop my boundaries and my belief in them.
For now I need to know how to be today. I am trying to be myself without leaving myself exposed and vulnerable. It feels very confusing. I am scared. I am meeting him very soon and need to get bathed and dressed.
He he he my lovely friend just called to say Happy Birthday and it's tomorrow. She was all sleepy and confused. I love her.
Off to get ready and consider how I remain composed without being controlling and isolated. How to be me and be OK.
Do I tell him about the bi-polar? I want to because I think it's important as an explanation of some of the years behind me and the way it's appeared as if I am simply bad and useless. But I think it's also risky with him. I don;t have to tell him today. I can get some thoughts and support from others about this and always tell him another time if it's relevant.
Bliss
XXX
I find it most distasteful
That spiders leave the cadaverous carcasses abandoned,
Sucked of their life,
The web starts to look rather macabre.
Who would want to live there?
The black widow sits in the middle,
But these
Eye spy from a dark corner,
One sensitive toe on the vibrator thread,
Patiently waiting for a luscious sucker.
On Thursday my dad called and left a message on my answer machine. It was playing on my mind. I was too late to call back and anyway. So there was the essence of fear across my existence until I called him back on Friday evening.
Before I made the call I didn't stop and consider how I was. A mistake. I need to stop and make this consideration and get myself supported and level. I was too complacent after recent times when he has been
My first mistake was to have opened a letter from the RAC saying that they had not received my returned car insurance policy so have not refunded the large sum of money yet. My first thought is that it's a conspiracy and a way to just keep my money longer. Like I think it was a conspiracy that they did not have the details of accidents in the last 5 years (that incidentally were not my fault), for which I am penalised grossly and something that seems unfair, increasing my insurance cost beyond what is reasonable in my opinion. So at the moment they have a lot of my money and I am struggling financially. Hence I had called and asked my dad, taking much courage but also shame inducing, to ask him if I could borrow some money to tide me over. I was on a back foot. I have felt pride that I have taken care of myself without him for these last 10 years. I have taken responsibility of my money. Oh and the trouble I have had makes so much sense now looking at the implications of bi-polar. Irrational spending and out of control. For so long have needed help and yet within my family I was just punished.
So back to the point. Although all points are relevant. ....
The point is that I felt angry and powerless with the RAC and scared that I am going to lose the money which every penny matters a lot to me right now. So I was walking through my flat muttering "bastards, bastards, bastards" I felt very stitched up all round by them and hate that feeling of injustice. The big boys always win and I and others like me are always poor, poorer, poorest. Will do my bit and then will have to let go and trust. At least I am able to identify the anger in me and let it pass acknowledged and not suppressed. I have a call to make to them - that's my part then. It's for some reason always difficult for me to actually make calls to what I perceive are people in power. Having said that I have managed to call my GP, the care co-ordinator and left a message with my Psych's PA to request he calls me. And I rationally explained my situation with the meds.
Yes, I felt uncomfortable with my request. My dad had agreed and said to call at the end of this month to make the arrangements. In the message he had left on my answer machine he stated that he had sent my card. And following his conversation with me on the last occasion we met he had said I was not to mention anything on the phone or write to thank him etc as he didn't want his wife, Theresa, to know anything about what he does. So I assumed the mention of the card meant he had sent me a cheque. I was rather hoping it was a gift - which it turns out to be but I found that out after a lot of angst about other matters. I will get there and explain. So also before phoning him back, I opened the envelope and a cheque dropped out. A very generous £500. I had to look closely as the numbers looked like he had written a six yet the written word looked like five. His writing is very spidery. I wonder where he was taught as I have never seen writing like it anywhere else and usually there is a basic style. I suppose if I screw my eyes and don;t where glasses there could be a link with Italic. I was taught italic at junior school and developed my own style I suppose which is nothing like italic now.
So I was looking at the guilt evoking cheque. The guilt is mine but of course the whole interaction of a lifetime with my dad and money does contribute to why I feel guilty and ashamed.
THEN ... he said and bring those photographs or else .....
My first reaction was that I had already taken him the photographs. And I do feel sure that I have. He said no I haven't so repeated bring them or else. I felt uncertain then and as if I had been so naughty was a bad person. Back-footed. So I raised my voice (which was the start of me not liking how I become with him). But within all that happened next I maintained my boundaries. I said there was no need to threaten me and asked what he meant by or else? He said he wasn't threatening me and I repeated to him his words. He flustered. I also said that if he could remember when he was throwing away everything from his and mums house after she died, and at this point I could feel the real hurt rising fast and started to feel tearful, that he hadn't wanted the photographs and was going to burn them. So I had taken them all. I said that I had them in a suitcase and had thrown away a lot of the scenery photos and just kept the people. I also explained that they were out of an y order. I still feel certain I have given him the photographs. He assured me he would return them and that he just wanted to take some copies of particular photos. I have not had back the photos I have already given him and I know I have as I remember at this moment now the photos I found.
When I said the word mum I started crying. It's all so painful still but of course not as bad as it was. It's just added to because I have so much grievance with my dad. It's like I lose my mum every time. Him marrying so soon after she died and getting rid of their home as quickly as possible has all looked to me like he couldn't wait to get away from that life. And of course the cutting contact with anyone they had ever known together - and sometimes he has nearly done it with me so many times. I feel rejected every time and unlovable. It hurts so badly. The little child in me needing parental love and safety. Never has been there.
And then he moaned. He said Oh don't cry. And of course I now how he hates sniveling people because that's what he has always said. He has always called me sniveller. And referred to his mother as a sniveller and I could hear the contempt in his voice. So more messages subtly passed on. He said calm down and he would call back in a few minutes. I said I just felt hurt and sad that's all. I explained that I was going out so would see him Sunday as arranged, and at that point he changed it to 12 at The Red Lion Chalton, where we have met before for a meal. It's averagely OK. There probably won;t be any tables though as for some reason it's popular. I said OK see you then and as I was putting the phone down I could hear him talking. As I put the phone down the hurt changed into rage. Explosive rage.
I was aware from all that I have been doing with SC that I needed to contain the rage as it was murderous. And with me feeling angry at myself for crying ( although I have since changed my mind about the crying ) and for raising my voice I could easily turn that in on me. Murder him or murder me and as I would not murder him ( well not as yet anyway, never say never, especially as apparently a high percentage of murders are by people the victims know well - I can't remember the proportion right now) it could easily turn into self harming etc. Every birthday for some reason there is an incident with my dad and I am not sure if it is the birthday or the money. When he gave me money towards the purchase of my car he was just rude about me to the salesman. Rude actually is an understatement, he was abusive and completely inappropriate.
So I sent a text to ML, with many, many expletives. She invited me to call by saying that she could listen. I needed to leave to get to the meeting, even though now I didn't want to go. I felt the rage and the power that comes with that. I drove crazily and ranted on and on about him and what he had said and things he had done - all the resentments exploding out of me including mention of his wife. On and ON driving far too fast so much so that I was way too early for the meeting when I had thought I would be late. Under normal circumstances I would have been.
So I sat and ranted more. Then I made ML and myself laugh as I said that with my dad being such a bigot and prejudiced, I would give the money he had given to me, to a charity involving black people or something and get them to write a letter of thanks to him. He would explode!!!!! ML asked me to consider this before I did. I was still in rage but laughed at myself. Of course incidents such as this would arouse the rage in me - all the terror and anger from my childhood but I would explode mildly directly with him because he would hit me or be more verbally abusive and crush me. So I would leave and in rage the power would become rebellion which over the years grew and grew with more destructive behaviours. So this would easily have become a purge first of any food, violently with masses and masses of laxatives. Then I would drive erratically and dangerously into London, get very drunk and drugged up and find someone to "shag" and I use that word with the violence and disgust that it sounds like anyway. My dad calls it shagging - women who just shag anyone including me. He "shagged" me but seems to forget that somehow.
I feel so much emotion as I am writing this. I cried when writing the word my mum, all sorts of memories of her and how much I miss her. How for so long she was in the middle of all of this. Yet she never seemed to do anything to stop it. I think she tried with my dad then she would try and persuade me to fall into line. Grrr forever it's been such a fucking nonsense. And now I am feeling both incredibly sad yet fucking furious. I am typing at a speed.
So I got to the AA meeting and the chair shared about anger as a trigger. I shared back about the prior events and emotions and what might have happened in the past but what I had done instead - containment, support from a friend and a meeting and how the enormity of the rage was subsiding. Success!
I was writing to that friend this morning after having been out last night and here is the copy of my texts......
Well it's a long time since I have got back from a night out dancing at this time. Thank you for coming tonight. Sorry you felt uncomfortable and needed to go. I know that so well. I am too old as feel Knackered like I used after two weeks of out and about with snatches I'd sleep. Hug x
I have just realised that I need to be careful from a different angle when I meet my dad today. Thankfully I have considered how I am feeling after expressing my feelings with my dad and setting a boundary with his threatening and abusive manner. After he apologised I felt empowered and also amazed - and an excitement has emerged too. On the outside I feel calm but inside I am still raging. It is taking a new shape and it's as if now the enemy is down I can get him calmly and easily inflicting fatal injuries cruelly. Its what he does to me - wields one de saying blow and whilst I am writhing in pain and weak jabs with more just enough to leave me alive but fatal nonetheless. So how do I behave. I do not want to do this. I have done it before with him i know. Gleefully find his Achilles heel and attack. I am thinking I must try and stay with my feelings but at the moment I feel powerful. This also leaves me vulnerable because he will be looking to attack me back. I get caught unaware. It all sounds like a battlefield but it has always been a feeling of attack and defence. How do I behave to enable me to step out of the war. Be me but lose
sense of me in the I have just realised that I need to be careful from a different angle when I meet my dad today. Thankfully I have considered how I am feeling after expressing my feelings with my dad and setting a boundary with his threatening and abusive manner. After he apologised I felt empowered and also amazed - and an excitement has emerged too. On the outside I feel calm but inside I am still raging. It is taking a new shape and it's as if now the enemy is down I can get him calmly and easily inflicting fatal injuries cruelly. Its what he does to me - wields one devastating blow and whilst I am writhing in pain and weak jabs with more just enough to leave me alive but fatal nonetheless. So how do I behave. I do not want to do this. I have done it before with him i know. Gleefully find his Achilles heel and attack. I am thinking I must try and stay with my feelings but at the moment I feel powerful. This also leaves me vulnerable because he will be looking to attack me back. I get caught unaware. It all sounds like a battlefield but it has always been a feeling of attack and defence. How do I behave to enable me to step out of the war. Be me but lose defensive/murderous rage. Just realised it means being me in sense of I love art and music. I enjoy trying to sketch. I like attempting to write poetry and am amazed by the wonder of micro creations in our body. In awe at the creation going on in us. I am challenged by living on a daily basis and live in fear. I have great people in my life. I am ashamed of my status - so little to show for my successful business life in the past. Yet also OK with the lack of burden possessions can bring to me. I am both excited and afraid by my mental health. Wanting to learn how to blossom from it rather than be shacked by it. I danced last night - felt free and energised rising through the screaming paranoia. Can't always do that though and that's OK too. Who else am I?
I am not a person who wants or likes to inflict pain when someone is down. I wouldn't do that to anyone - so I need to contain the rage in all it's manifestations. I am so hurt and desperate to be loved and know I am
Lovable which leaves me vulnerable with only childlike defences in an adult body and mind. I never want to be cruel only understanding and kind. I want to find compassion for my dad without that meaning my boundaries become mush again.
So more realisation - I have a picture in my head of a bird of pray attacking another bird in the air. I can see it in my mind's eye. It's such a vicious fight, and looks horrendous and frightening. Then one bird falls, straight down incurring even more devastating injuries. The the bird of prey sits on his victim and pecks away or stabs with its claws but still not killing it.
I do not want to enter into the fight int he first place but sometimes I am required to beat away the attack and hope to develop my boundaries and my belief in them.
For now I need to know how to be today. I am trying to be myself without leaving myself exposed and vulnerable. It feels very confusing. I am scared. I am meeting him very soon and need to get bathed and dressed.
He he he my lovely friend just called to say Happy Birthday and it's tomorrow. She was all sleepy and confused. I love her.
Off to get ready and consider how I remain composed without being controlling and isolated. How to be me and be OK.
Do I tell him about the bi-polar? I want to because I think it's important as an explanation of some of the years behind me and the way it's appeared as if I am simply bad and useless. But I think it's also risky with him. I don;t have to tell him today. I can get some thoughts and support from others about this and always tell him another time if it's relevant.
Bliss
XXX
