For Real?

I took a break from telling my story; felt we all needed a break some light relief after “See you later.”

Mental illness doesn't kill you, so what just happened in that hospital bed was beyond me. I had to ask the question, what occurred here?

Towards the end of his life my father lived with a number of relations.  They had previously made a lot of noise about being better supporters and carer’s of my father and had hounded my mother out of her marriage.

My father was too soft for his own good, we talked about this at length and probably the only topic that made us both mad at each other.

Like for real ?

It turns out my father had a mental health crisis and one of my cousins took it upon himself to beat him up because he didn't like the way my father was behaving.  Lesson number one if you don’t like how someone is behaving in their own house you move out, you don’t put your grubby hands on a frail old man! 

Entitlement puffs you; it fools you into believing you own what doesn't belong to you!

Apparently this was not the only time he had done this but on this occasion he beat my father so bad cracked his ribs and perforated his lungs!

My dad drowned in his own blood.

The thing is this, I know he was fighting mental illness, I know it was getting worse as he grew older; I know he was imperfect but he was mine and I loved him with all his imperfections!

Some of the family knew this abuse was happening and they covered it. I will never understand whether it was out of fear of facing ugly or whether they just didn't care. I took it they just didn't care because if you love someone in my world you don’t bury your head in the sand you stand up face ugly and you fight!

As if this wasn't enough, they took advantage of our pain and confusion and swindled us out of our inheritance.

But I was coming for them, I didn't plan it, that day just came, and when it did I said enough is enough.

Get unstuck

Family sometimes looks polished on the outside, from an external perspective we may be attracted by the cars the homes or even kids. Behind closed door however family can be hard work, There is a degree of functionality that I suspect every family needs but every family at some level has some  dysfunction The distinction should maybe not be how dysfunctional they are but more so how committed the family is to make it work.

I write this in memory of my dad, he was more than a man with a tag with mental illness; he was intelligent funny hard-working kind and generous individual.  If I were to choose a dad all over even with what I know now I would chose him.

It took me years to come to a place of peace, years of pain, years of anger. Anger is a poison when brewed it turns to bitterness, bitterness will distort your personality and change your name.

My heart is mending, other places are still tender but that is ok, healing is a process. I refuse to let the pain of my past stop me from flying.

I am learning to forgive, not because I necessarily want to mend relationships, I just want to be free unforgiveness will glue you to your past.

My dad died too early in my life I think, but then again I am not God so I trust, I just trust.