- Dec 13, 2015
- 5,254
- 4,227
- 37
- Country
- United States
- Faith
- Calvinist
- Marital Status
- Married
My father is so lost, my family has tried everything and I don't know what else to do. My father needs God's help.
From the very earliest memories of my father I remember a kind and supportive man. I remember that his kids were everything to him. I remember BEING everything to him. One thing I distinctly remember was my father playing with my sister and I and, we were happy.
It was extremely short lived.
It all started when my family moved to the United States from Canada. I was six and a half years old. Our lives started falling apart ever since we moved, I had lost my friends I had lost my Canadian Identity which I was proud of at the time, I had to leave my ENTIRE life behind and the move was extremely traumatizing for me.
I know what some people are thinking, welcome to life, grow up ..etc. But, try telling that to six year old me. It was a VERY traumatizing and sad time for me.
Anyway, after we moved my parents lost their house in Canada and eventually, we lost everything. We were so poor we couldn't even rub two nickels together. It was one of the few times in my life that I had ever seen my mom cry and, my father decided to fill his anguish and pain with the bottle. I was oblivious to this, because he drank his troubles away at night. Plus, I was only six years old and probably wouldn't have noticed. But, I noticed over the course of time my father began to change.
I remember noticing that he no longer was the kind and supportive man that he once was and he started to become cruel and verbally abusive towards me. I no longer was his world and I was only a hindrance to him. Eventually, verbal abuse started to become physical abuse.
I don't remember the first time my father hit me. But, I do know that I was around 8 years old and I do remember trying to tell people about it. I tried telling my mother but she didn't believe me. The physical abuse continued until I was in 6th grade. I finally summoned the courage to tell a teacher about it that I was in high confidence with. She believed me and accused my father of being a physically abusive parent. My father acted calm when she told him all of this but, when we got home my father exploded. Saying that he had never beaten me or laid a hand on me in his life and, how could I ever have said that about him. He never let me forget that I had once told on him and, I decided for myself that it was sinful to ever talk about it again. That, it was normal for dads to beat on their kids. That what I was going through must be completely normal.
Because, my dad would always be like "Call 911! I'm abusing you!" whenever he wailed on me. I was so traumatized that I started getting panic attacks everytime my father was around. Or everytime my father raised his voice. I still haven't fully recovered.
When the panic attacks happened though, I didn't know what they were. How could I have at like 12 years old? 13 years old? 16 years old? I didn't learn what I was experiencing until I was in my early 20's.
I kept trying to tell my dad about the panic attacks. About, not being able to breathe. My father kept telling me that I don't have Asthma and that I was making it up for attention. So, my father beat me harder.
I was caught smoking one time when I was 13 or 14 and my father was furious. He drove me home and my mom wasn't home I don't think. I don't really remember. I just remember my dad picking me up by the shirt and throwing me against the entertainment center. And I remember my dad wailing on me after that. My dad then grounded me from the computer for what seemed like an eternity. Which, is what he should have did in the first place. That worked better as a punishment than the physical abuse that I had received.
Needless to say, I don't smoke because of that. So, That's one great thing my dad taught me I guess...
I started acting out in seventh grade because I wanted my dad to notice me. I desperately wanted a father back then. But, I didn't get one. Instead all I got was a verbally abusive man who called me good for nothing. Who constantly called me a "Whine Ass" when I cried. Who said everything that I said and did was wrong. That my educational ambitions would never happen and the oh so popular phrase "I wish you had never been born."
Never once did he ever give me the light of day. I spent my time trying to get as far away from his as possible. I spent my time behind a locked bedroom door crying alone. After I had graduated high school he told me that I had accomplished nothing. And, then there was one day where he almost KILLED me.
I don't remember much about the day. But, he was trying to get me to confess about something. Like an idiot, I didn't want to tell him. I don't even remember what it was. I just remember my dad losing it. I remember my dad knocking me to my bed and I remember him placing a pillow on top of my head so that I couldn't breathe and I remember him lying on top of the pillow.
I remember struggling to breathe but of course, I couldn't. I remember starting to pass out and then I remember telling him "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" and he continued to smother me for a while and then he let go. I remember a look of remorse on his face. But, the damage was already done and then I told him whatever it was. It was lucky that I really was lying, or I probably wouldn't be alive today. Maybe I would have just pretended and made something up, I don't know.
I told him about this a couple years ago and he said "I was just trying to put a scare into you." Well, congratulations dad. You did. You left a mental scar that I will NEVER forget. I forgive you, but I will never EVER forget it.
Then one night like every other typical night that my father was drunk, we got into an argument at 1 in the morning. My mother, who had to work the next day, got woken up for the 50,000th time and said that she was sick of him taunting me in the middle of the night. That he had no respect for her or me and that she was sick of tired of it. My mom took my side and my father tried lashing out at me. My mother shielded me and my father said "You choose him?" and started beating her in front of me.
Time froze. I wanted to help my mom. For the first time in my life, I wanted to hit my father back. Of all the times my father beat me, I wanted to defend myself. I felt like, my father could beat me all he wanted, but the minute he laid a hand on my mom, I wanted to help her and I wanted to protect her.
But, I didn't. I just sat there and watched in cold horror as my father viciously beat my mother.
It took me a LONG time to forgive him. But, I eventually called him one day and told him that he was wrong and I forgive him. He said he didn't remember doing it but, my mother and I wouldn't lie to him and he called it a mistake and as far as I know, he never hit my mom again.
However, he NEVER apologized or resented or repented for beating ME. It makes me feel the lowest of the low.
All of this happened mind you, when I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know why he was acting this way, I didn't know why he physically and verbally abused me the way I did. It wasn't until my sister told me when I was 20 years old that I learned that it was because my dad drank.
I spent the rest of my life trying to please him in some way, shape, or form. He never was pleased. Even when I met the love of my life, he wasn't pleased. Even when we got married, he was never pleased.
I feel hopeless, I've tried everything to get my father back. I deserve a father. So please, pray for my father to find his way like I have prayed so many times. Pray for mercy of my father's soul for he's so lost and confused. I want my father back, I deserve my father back. I have forgiven my father for everything he has always done. Help him forgive me.
From the very earliest memories of my father I remember a kind and supportive man. I remember that his kids were everything to him. I remember BEING everything to him. One thing I distinctly remember was my father playing with my sister and I and, we were happy.
It was extremely short lived.
It all started when my family moved to the United States from Canada. I was six and a half years old. Our lives started falling apart ever since we moved, I had lost my friends I had lost my Canadian Identity which I was proud of at the time, I had to leave my ENTIRE life behind and the move was extremely traumatizing for me.
I know what some people are thinking, welcome to life, grow up ..etc. But, try telling that to six year old me. It was a VERY traumatizing and sad time for me.
Anyway, after we moved my parents lost their house in Canada and eventually, we lost everything. We were so poor we couldn't even rub two nickels together. It was one of the few times in my life that I had ever seen my mom cry and, my father decided to fill his anguish and pain with the bottle. I was oblivious to this, because he drank his troubles away at night. Plus, I was only six years old and probably wouldn't have noticed. But, I noticed over the course of time my father began to change.
I remember noticing that he no longer was the kind and supportive man that he once was and he started to become cruel and verbally abusive towards me. I no longer was his world and I was only a hindrance to him. Eventually, verbal abuse started to become physical abuse.
I don't remember the first time my father hit me. But, I do know that I was around 8 years old and I do remember trying to tell people about it. I tried telling my mother but she didn't believe me. The physical abuse continued until I was in 6th grade. I finally summoned the courage to tell a teacher about it that I was in high confidence with. She believed me and accused my father of being a physically abusive parent. My father acted calm when she told him all of this but, when we got home my father exploded. Saying that he had never beaten me or laid a hand on me in his life and, how could I ever have said that about him. He never let me forget that I had once told on him and, I decided for myself that it was sinful to ever talk about it again. That, it was normal for dads to beat on their kids. That what I was going through must be completely normal.
Because, my dad would always be like "Call 911! I'm abusing you!" whenever he wailed on me. I was so traumatized that I started getting panic attacks everytime my father was around. Or everytime my father raised his voice. I still haven't fully recovered.
When the panic attacks happened though, I didn't know what they were. How could I have at like 12 years old? 13 years old? 16 years old? I didn't learn what I was experiencing until I was in my early 20's.
I kept trying to tell my dad about the panic attacks. About, not being able to breathe. My father kept telling me that I don't have Asthma and that I was making it up for attention. So, my father beat me harder.
I was caught smoking one time when I was 13 or 14 and my father was furious. He drove me home and my mom wasn't home I don't think. I don't really remember. I just remember my dad picking me up by the shirt and throwing me against the entertainment center. And I remember my dad wailing on me after that. My dad then grounded me from the computer for what seemed like an eternity. Which, is what he should have did in the first place. That worked better as a punishment than the physical abuse that I had received.
Needless to say, I don't smoke because of that. So, That's one great thing my dad taught me I guess...
I started acting out in seventh grade because I wanted my dad to notice me. I desperately wanted a father back then. But, I didn't get one. Instead all I got was a verbally abusive man who called me good for nothing. Who constantly called me a "Whine Ass" when I cried. Who said everything that I said and did was wrong. That my educational ambitions would never happen and the oh so popular phrase "I wish you had never been born."
Never once did he ever give me the light of day. I spent my time trying to get as far away from his as possible. I spent my time behind a locked bedroom door crying alone. After I had graduated high school he told me that I had accomplished nothing. And, then there was one day where he almost KILLED me.
I don't remember much about the day. But, he was trying to get me to confess about something. Like an idiot, I didn't want to tell him. I don't even remember what it was. I just remember my dad losing it. I remember my dad knocking me to my bed and I remember him placing a pillow on top of my head so that I couldn't breathe and I remember him lying on top of the pillow.
I remember struggling to breathe but of course, I couldn't. I remember starting to pass out and then I remember telling him "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" and he continued to smother me for a while and then he let go. I remember a look of remorse on his face. But, the damage was already done and then I told him whatever it was. It was lucky that I really was lying, or I probably wouldn't be alive today. Maybe I would have just pretended and made something up, I don't know.
I told him about this a couple years ago and he said "I was just trying to put a scare into you." Well, congratulations dad. You did. You left a mental scar that I will NEVER forget. I forgive you, but I will never EVER forget it.
Then one night like every other typical night that my father was drunk, we got into an argument at 1 in the morning. My mother, who had to work the next day, got woken up for the 50,000th time and said that she was sick of him taunting me in the middle of the night. That he had no respect for her or me and that she was sick of tired of it. My mom took my side and my father tried lashing out at me. My mother shielded me and my father said "You choose him?" and started beating her in front of me.
Time froze. I wanted to help my mom. For the first time in my life, I wanted to hit my father back. Of all the times my father beat me, I wanted to defend myself. I felt like, my father could beat me all he wanted, but the minute he laid a hand on my mom, I wanted to help her and I wanted to protect her.
But, I didn't. I just sat there and watched in cold horror as my father viciously beat my mother.
It took me a LONG time to forgive him. But, I eventually called him one day and told him that he was wrong and I forgive him. He said he didn't remember doing it but, my mother and I wouldn't lie to him and he called it a mistake and as far as I know, he never hit my mom again.
However, he NEVER apologized or resented or repented for beating ME. It makes me feel the lowest of the low.
All of this happened mind you, when I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know why he was acting this way, I didn't know why he physically and verbally abused me the way I did. It wasn't until my sister told me when I was 20 years old that I learned that it was because my dad drank.
I spent the rest of my life trying to please him in some way, shape, or form. He never was pleased. Even when I met the love of my life, he wasn't pleased. Even when we got married, he was never pleased.
I feel hopeless, I've tried everything to get my father back. I deserve a father. So please, pray for my father to find his way like I have prayed so many times. Pray for mercy of my father's soul for he's so lost and confused. I want my father back, I deserve my father back. I have forgiven my father for everything he has always done. Help him forgive me.
Joining in group prayer 
