Need to Vent - Thanks Religious Assholes

[Salacious B. Crumb]

So sorry you're going through this, Sal.  Your father sounds a lot like mine, albeit less violent.  My father was always a bit off the deep end.  Mental illness runs in his side of the family.  His father was a genius who bordered on complete insanity.  He liked to parent by simply beating his sons.  My father used to talk about it with a sense of awe and respect.  Thankfully, my grandfather died before me and my brothers were born.

My father was physically abusive to my oldest brother during his toddler years, but turned to verbal and mental abuse after that.  My brothers and I were never troublemakers.  We always did well in school, never got detention or in any real trouble.  Never stayed out late, vandalized anything, got into fights, did drugs, got anyone pregnant, etc.  Yet, we were disrespectful ingrates who were lucky to have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.

Whenever we did something he perceived as being wrong (which was based on his whims... we could do the same thing every day with no issue, then out of the blue all hell would break loose on the nth time), he would make us stand in a line like we were soldiers while he did his best drill sergeant impression, ranting and raving in our faces, telling us how worthless we were. We were 12 and younger.  He was a Vietnam vet, you see.  A guy who stayed in the safest areas because he was an Air Force plane engine mechanic.  Yet, he demanded he be treated like a bonafide war hero instead of a grease monkey who essentially had an extended tropical vacation because he was as far from the fighting as anyone in the area could be.

He once tried to burn the house down with us inside.  I was like 3 or 4.  He would freak out at the drop of a hat.  It was always our fault.  He would kick in bedroom doors in order to yell at us.

He was always paranoid, but it came to a head when we got cable TV in 1990/1991.  It was during Desert Shield/Storm.  Suddenly, he was watching CNN all day every day.  And then he started watching C-Span.  Everyone was a communist.  And not in a 'ha ha' way.  The yelling and ranting got worse as time went on.  It became an almost daily thing.  He was paranoid that the government was out to get him, that there would be an revolution, etc.  Alex Jones shit before Alex Jones even existed.

Why didn't we leave?  We needed his income for my medical bills.  The 1980's were a lot different than today when it came to covering complete physical disability from birth.  The bulk of my 43 surgeries were done when I was a kid.  We had bills out the wazoo.  Mom, in addition to working a full 40 a week (sometimes more) went to night school to get her business degree so she could earn more.  She also brought me to every medical appointment both locally and down in Boston.  And took care of my brothers, who aren't disabled but were still kids.  My father didn't do much parenting due to us not wanting him to, and thankfully he was too lazy to insert himself into it.  We walked on eggshells enough with him simply sitting in the living room recliner chain smoking and smoldering with rage as he watched the news.

There was a religious aspect to it, too.  He repeatedly told us about this dream he had where god woke him up from a nap on the couch.  He went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and saw god over his shoulder.  He couldn't make out god's features, just that it was glowing and kind of humanoid.  And god told him he was a good person doing a good job.  Between his military service and god dream, he literally thought he was righteous in everything he did.  He was never wrong, never cruel, never abusive in his mind.

Turns out he was a child molester.  He molested my cousin/godmother when she was 8-16.  Why didn't she tell us until I was an adult?  Because she knew we needed his income for my medical bills.  I cannot adequately express the guilt I have knowing she was humiliated and suffered in order to protect me.

We call him Asshole.  He's in prison.  We were able to meet the statute of limitations for the last year of abuse (her 15-16 year).  Even with just that year, he got 16 counts of felonious sexual assault.  His purported last parole hearing is actually next Tuesday.  My brothers and I have changed our last names to our mom's maiden name.  I still live with her.  She's my hero.

Now, I'm not saying this to try to take over the conversation or one up you in the misery department, Sal.  I have no interest in getting into a terrible father dick waving contest.  I just wanted to share my story in order to illustrate that I really know what you're going through.  I get the constant defense, the locking yourself in your room, enjoying leaving the house for any reason, and dreading having to come back to a home that feels like enemy territory.  I get it.

My advice is simple: do whatever you can to get the fuck out of there and don't look back.  I haven't seen my father since he was arrested 15 years ago, and that time has been the best time of my life.  I feel a lot more confident, I don't need to hide away, etc.  Yet, I can still feel his presence in how I react to certain things.  Living with a psychotic affects everything, and the effects are long lasting and sneaky.  The sooner you get out of there, the sooner you get to heal, which can take a long time.

Beyond that, I'm giving you an Internet hug.  Stay strong and do what's best for you.  And full props to your grandma.

Thanks for sharing Kev, and I don’t see this as any kind of comparing story, so don’t worry about that. I think it’s somewhat healing to know I’m not the only one out there, and it helps to get some advice on how it was dealt with. Thanks for taking the time that you did to share. Sorry for the house burning incident and the fake drill sergeant antics that had happened to you.

I’d compare my dad to some crazy person with a horrible temper + Alex Jones as well. If he hears about ebola, he says things like, “It’s going to get a lot worse, mark my words.” He buys into the news so hard like your dad, and almost none of that stuff affects our lives directly, but he makes it an effort to convince himself and others that it does. My dad would probably love your dad, I think the only people on this planet that he respects are catholic priests, soldiers, Trump (and every other person on that stage). Also, he’ll stick up for the cops in every situation when they’re clearly in the wrong.

I’ve barely got into how my dad is on a daily basis, but it’s been rough, I never left either because I basically had no where to go, and didn’t want to put this situation on another family member, but my grandma seems to be glad to have me as long as I want to be there.

My dad has the same thing with dreams and signs. He thinks everything is a sign, and thinks every single one of his wacked out dreams, has a meaning from god, no matter how incoherent and silly they are. He hears god’s voice telling him things too, which is a pain in the ass. I’ve had a few traumatizing physical abuses in the past, but mostly he goes as far as he can with the verbal and emotional abuse, because I think he knows deep down that everyone would just leave him if he ever physically lashed out. Probably when I was 13, I think my brother and I were calling each other names in his room, and I heard him marching up the stairs, I ran into my ran room, and he picked me up by the throat and through me a few feet, thankfully I landed onto the bed and he walked out the door like nothing happened. I’d call the cops on him in a heartbeat if he ever struck one of us, as adults. I’m happy to hear your dad is in prison, if my dad was in prison, I feel I could breathe a lot easier right now, and move on.

The confidence thing too. He’s stripped me of my self-esteem, confidence, and I feel I don’t deserve happiness, but it’s good that I can recognize these things, however because of what’s happened my whole life, it’s hard to just move past it, but I’m trying. It doesn’t just go away in a few days I guess, especially when I don’t feel it’s resolved, there’s much more to be said and worked out, but I can’t deal with it right now. I also know deep down, that he won't listen to a word I say, and none of my attempts to get through to him will do one damned thing.

[KevinM1]

He won't listen because he's ill.  He doesn't think he's ill, but he is.  And unless he recognizes it (and if he's like my father, he likely thinks that psychiatrists/psychologists are nothing more than liberal quacks who profit from messing with people's thoughts and morality, and ending relationships), he'll never accept what you try to point out to him.  He may pay lip service to get you back into the house, because people like him get off on keeping others under their thumb, but he won't mean it.

And that sucks, and it's sad.  And it will take years to get over.  Like I said, I haven't been in the same room as my father for about 15 years (I think it may be 14, actually, when we were going through the trial).  And it took a long, long time to work through my issues and become healthier.  And I'm not completely unaffected by his damage even today.  I hope I am someday, but I know it'll take more time.  But, I'm a lot better, a lot more whole now as a person than I ever was when he was around.

That's why I say never go back.  You won't be able to heal if he's in the picture.  It's way too easy to fall into old roles and patterns of behavior, and the cycle won't break.

[ErGingerbreadMandude]

Sounds somewhat like my dad.
My plan is to get a job as soon as possible and get the hell out of this house.

[MTL]

@ Crumb,

Your father and my mother were separated at birth, I think.

I can't really advise you, not really knowing you,

but this is what i said to my mother:

Mom:  This is a one-way communication,
you may take it or leave it,
but it will not be open to comment or debate, whatsoever.

I don't seek to offend or hurt you,
but you're going to believe what you want;
I can simply no longer afford to invest energy in convincing you that offense was not intended.

I've tried my best to cope with our situation, and maybe I failed,
but in any event, I've reached the end of my willingness to sink any more of my time or resources
in what seems to be a futile endeavor.

it's not because I don't care,
but because it's not making any difference.

Sadly, I feel that continue to invest energy into mending this relationship
will only yield diminishing returns.

I'm moving on.  Please do not seek reassurances from me, I cannot give them.

I'm sorry for my mistakes,
and if you ever find yourself wanting my forgiveness,
please know you already have it...

...but that does NOT translate into your having carte blanche to restore the old status quo.

With absolute sincerity, and zero antagonism,
I encourage you to seek professional help.

I love you Mom, and I hope you find peace and mental health.

Me

Thanks for sharing that. It’s polite, and well thought-out. I may do something like this in the future if I feel that it’s right.

I don't mean to be obnoxious by giving out advice when it wasn't asked-for.
I simply wanted to share my experience, and if it helps you, terrific.
Perhaps you have already said something better than what I said.

[Salacious B. Crumb]

He won't listen because he's ill.  He doesn't think he's ill, but he is.  And unless he recognizes it (and if he's like my father, he likely thinks that psychiatrists/psychologists are nothing more than liberal quacks who profit from messing with people's thoughts and morality, and ending relationships), he'll never accept what you try to point out to him.  He may pay lip service to get you back into the house, because people like him get off on keeping others under their thumb, but he won't mean it.

And that sucks, and it's sad.  And it will take years to get over.  Like I said, I haven't been in the same room as my father for about 15 years (I think it may be 14, actually, when we were going through the trial).  And it took a long, long time to work through my issues and become healthier.  And I'm not completely unaffected by his damage even today.  I hope I am someday, but I know it'll take more time.  But, I'm a lot better, a lot more whole now as a person than I ever was when he was around.

That's why I say never go back.  You won't be able to heal if he's in the picture.  It's way too easy to fall into old roles and patterns of behavior, and the cycle won't break.

lol liberal quacks, sounds like that would be a possibility that he would say that or he’d say, “What are they going to tell me that I already don’t know?” or “You guys are fucking assholes, I’m the one who needs help here!?? I’m the one?! You guys are always ganging up on me! I should just pack up and leave, is that what you want?” “What are they going to tell me I don’t know, be nice and good to each other, I know that, I’m not Obama.”

Yeah, and my mom is my hero too. I wouldn’t mind living with her the rest of my life, although I’d prefer to have my own space or share it with someone else that I could get along with very well, like a good friend or girlfriend. As long as I’m not with my dad, or someone that wants drama or to fight all the time, I’d be happy.

[Salacious B. Crumb]

Sounds somewhat like my dad.
My plan is to get a job as soon as possible and get the hell out of this house.

Hope that goes well for you man. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

[Salacious B. Crumb]

I don't mean to be obnoxious by giving out advice when it wasn't asked-for.
I simply wanted to share my experience, and if it helps you, terrific.
Perhaps you have already said something better than what I said.

Not obnoxious at all MTL, that was awesome!. Right now, I just want to break all communication with him. It’s been 4.5 days, and I got out of the house more today (as much as I could with the mild flare-up going on), and it helped take my mind off the whole situation for a little while; it was nice. I also sat outside and looked at the stars for about an half hour, it really relieved some of stress. It was very quiet, and peaceful. I completely got lost in it, it was great. And, please feel free to share more if it helps you.

[robvalue]

My dad also traumatised me and broke my confidence. But over the years being away from him, I've been able to build it back up. I'm sure you'll be able to as well The effects of the psychological abuse are still there in my head, I've just learned how to stamp on them and expose them for the irrational thoughts that they are. I found cognitive behaviour therapy really helped me with this process, I would recommend it.

[Bob Kelso]

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I’m not the type to publicly put up a story complaining (unless its a brief sentence), but since there are overtones in religion in this, I felt it may be worth mentioning, and may help explain to some people PMing me a why I may not respond for a little bit. I may be on and off here for a few days to a week, but here it goes.

I’ve been having problems with my dad most of my life (he can’t get along with anyone that he’s close to). I’ve basically been bullied, along with my family into keeping my mouth shut, unless I wanted a huge fight with repercussions with this ‘person’.

He is a total narcissist, and always gets his way with practically everything, and if he doesn’t, you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s always whining, always complaining, always being negative, and isn’t happy unless he’s in a fight with someone, he’s never wrong, and he knows everything, and if it’s not his radical way of thinking, he’s going to want to have a problem with you. When I was younger, he loved to tell embarrassing things about me to other people that we were just meeting. And, his hypocrisy is through the roof, especially with our last fight. There’s a million examples of that too, like the forgive and forget one, that he loves to say, but feels the need to bring up things people have apologized for in the past over and over again decades ago. I can write for days on end about him, but I’ll just leave it at that for now. I felt I’ve been living at my last straw for about 7-8 years now, and don’t know how I made it through this much of my life. I feel the only reason I’m alive is the crazy amount of love I have for the closest 3 people in my life, and that I know they have for me.

We’ve had many of these fights where he talks 99.9% of the time, and just vents on how hard he has it, although he hasn’t worked in I don’t know how many years, and has practically nothing to be angry at. He should be insanely grateful to his wife, that she didn’t just pack up and leave him. In these recurring fights, he’s known for years how nervous he’s made me, and how many panic attacks and ulcerative colitis flare-ups he’s given me, but still seems to be all over me. There’s many things that he wants to fight about, but won’t drop THE FUCKING RELIGION FAIRY TALE BULLSHIT! After making it kindly known that I don’t believe in it, he still insists I’m the reason why the house has fallen apart (although it was like that when we were all going to church and devout), and that there are problems in it all the time. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack, I packed up a duffel bag in 20 minutes on Sunday, and my grandma picked me up, and now I’m at her house recovering. I’m starting to having a mild flare-up because of him, and my heart rate still hasn’t fully gone down.

I’ve been completely ignoring his, “Let’s just move on, and forget what happened” texts the past few days. I know by now that he’s never going to change, and when I feel a little better I’m desperately going to try to get out of the city and get a job I’m capable of doing. It’s hard because I have back and knee issues, and I’m in therapy for them now as well, and can’t really do labor or stand all day. I also feel sick nearly all the time in this city, because of allergies (which most people think is a joke, but not in my case exactly), so that’s why I feel I need to leave these desert cities with an amazing amount of dust, dirt, and pollen. I felt like I was a new person closer to the beach.

I’m a kind and laid-back person, despite how I may be perceived at times. I may not have been on here, if I didn’t see firsthand what religion is capable of doing. It drives me nuts how people’s beliefs become their identity, and how it becomes the most important thing in their lives. If you’re lying, dodging, or completely full of shit on here, I’m going to call you out, (or I’ll let someone else do it, there’s plenty ready to correct your lying asses) although nothing needs to be said to most of the people on here, you guys have been great. My dad cares more about me believing in what he believes, than me as a person, whether he realizes it or not.. I just can’t take it anymore, and don’t have plans to ever move back in under his roof for any extended period of time. I can’t entirely blame this on religion, because that’s how he is as a person (but didn’t seem to be this type of person until he became “devout” and politically involved about 15 years ago), but see what religion can do? See how evil it can be, and how it can cause people to think? From the millions and millions of these daily experiences, to people killing themselves because they're gay and can't cope with living with people that aren't in reality, all the way to terrorism. Religion, unless kept to oneself, WILL BE detrimental to someone in your life. Thanks for listening and your help. I don’t want to complain, but I feel the need to get some of this off of my chest.

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Sorry to hear about your dad, Crumb.   

Reminds me of my first step-dad, always had to be right and his favorite thing to say was "It's between you and god, I'm washing my hands of it."

He was so controlling, and violent to boot in my teenage years, that I still struggle with certain aspects of my life that he always harped on. 

Best thing I ever did was completely cut ties with him when my mom finally gave him the boot, and I've never looked back.

[robvalue]

Sorry to hear you had a dick father figure too I'm glad you were able to cut him out.