Surviving Fathers Day

Surviving Fathers day when you have two dads; one of which has passed away.

Father’s Day is a hard day for me. A few years ago I put a post on Facebook recognising both of my fathers, including the father I lost at a young age. A few hours later I remember having my mother screaming down the phone and sending harassing messages because I had upset my dad and always upset him if I mentioned my biological father. I rang my dad that night to ask if he was ok and if I had upset him to which he stated he didn’t know what I was talking about and I hadn’t upset him.

I am lucky that I have a father that acknowledges I have a biological father and understands that his loss hurts me.

Anyway, ever since I have always acknowledged both my fathers and I do not care what anybody thinks, because it is my life, my fathers and quite frankly my decision to do whatever I want and post whatever I want.

I went two nights with no sleep and I went out from about 07:45- 15:00 then picked up the wife to pop to the shop, when I got back I was physically exhausted so my way of facing father’s day was to sleep for 21 hours!! You can call me lazy if you want but my body obviously needed it.

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The memory of a child and how it had an impact on my life.

I remember a lot from when I was younger, but there are two distinct memories that are embedded in my mind, I did not know it at the time, but these memories played a part in mapping out my future.

The first memory involves me being in a car, I was being told if I cried and said I did not want to go and see my dad just say so and I could go to McDonalds. I was young and did not understand what was going on- I thought my father was mean and that I shouldn’t go near him. I liked McDonalds, so I cried….

I do not remember if a mobile phone was involved or if I was taken into a building or left in the car, that part is a blank. I remember if I cried I got McDonalds.

The second memory I am a bit older and I remember being told I could not go to my father’s funeral because of a few reasons, one being “there will be too many men there” so I did not go to my father’s funeral. At that point in life I didn’t really know about cremation, I presumed everyone was buried-I had only been to one funeral before, my Grandads’ and he was buried. I presumed that if I had no choice over going to the funeral it would be ok because there would be a grave I could go to. It turns out this was not the case either as my father was cremated and his ashes scattered.

I have been told that I am a liar and these memories are imaginary because they did not happen, but I remember them clearly, I can see them if I close my eyes. I may forget what I went upstairs for but these two memories I remember clearly.

What I did not know was that me being in the car that day, was because I was due to see someone (I don’t know if it was a judge or social services) however I know that this one decision had an impact on who ‘won’ custody of me. Of course I had a lot of good things happen to me growing up, I have four younger siblings that I love, but if I could go back to this day I would not have cried for that McDonalds and I would have gone to my Dads’ funeral. Judge me if you want but I was young and knowing what I know now, my father was not “dirty”, “bad” or “nasty” – he was my dad and he loved me.

The same goes for the second memory, apparently it did not happen and I was given a choice, but if that as the case I would never have missed my father’s funeral. These days I get very emotional surrounding death that I believe comes from having a lack of control at a young age when I lost a parent. Yes, I did not see him for about 8 years until he was in hospice care and yes, the parent I lived with got remarried and I have an amazing step Dad, but I still had another father. I have two dads (not in the sense of same sex parents) but my biological dad and my step dad (although I do not like the phrase step dad, he is my dad too).

As a child/young person, we aren’t always given freedom or choice, perhaps it is for protection or to maintain our innocence, but I draw the line on decisions being made for a child on the opinions of the decision maker-they should be made for the best of the child.

My bereavement for the loss of my father has only just begun recently and it has been 15 years. I never grieved, I didn’t want to, I was scared and did not want to show emotion in front of a certain person.

I have not forgiven myself for not standing up for myself, for not giving evidence in a custody battle, or going to that funeral and I don’t think I ever will. My life would have been so different if I stood up for myself.

I am only 27….

I am only 27 years old (or young!) and I have lived through

  • Emotional Abuse and Bullying

  • Physical Abuse and Bullying

  • Self Harm

  • Anorexia

  • Bulimia

  • Binge Eating Disorders

  • Suicidal Thoughts

  • Loss of a Parent

  • Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

  • Anxiety

  • Depression

And you know what? I am still here!! Mental Illness is a difficult, harsh and life changing problem.

But

You can do it!! We are here for each other, if you are having a bad time, speak to someone – You can do it!!

Yesterday….

I said to myself I would try to write for at least a week using the WordPress daily prompts. Yesterday I forgot.

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My Facebook Post may explain a little.

April 25th, 2018 not only marked 2 years since my surgery (see April 25th 2018 – 2 Years Post Appendicectomy ), it also marked 15 years since my biological father died.

Due to my complex life history and reasons, I have only just started to explore my past in depth, I never grieved 15 years ago. With everything that has gone on in the last 2 years, my feelings of grief have only just emerged and I am starting the process 15 years on and getting help from available services where I can.

If you are grieving some time after losing someone I have learnt not to feel ashamed for your grief, there were several things stopping me from grieving years ago, it is not my fault I could not explore my feelings and I was not old enough or strong enough to stand up for myself. But I still deserve to grieve. We all do.

Yesterday’s daily word prompt was elaborate;

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Thanks Google!!

So I guess my contribution to the topic of elaboration involves my theory surrounding my grief. My childhood wasn’t necessarily unhappy, at the time anyway. Years on I have realised that certain things that happened and ways I was treated were not ‘normal’ and where definitely a cause for concern. I have had a complicated life, exploring it was always going to be a big job but writing this blog does help that. Maybe nobody sees this page, or comments, follows or supports it. But it is my story. My truth. I am not twisting or manipulating the truth, I have been lied to most of my life and I intend to live an honest life. If you do not like it then I am sorry. This is me.

Sertraline oh Sertraline….

So having spent the last two days in the bed I have got myself up and retreated to the sofa to watch tv with my pooch and wife.

So I have not left the house but it is cold and the effort to get dressed is too much.

I have been thinking about my Sertraline, whilst there have been several days or events I have attended and I am less anxious or OCD symptoms have subsided- I find myself having more bad days and a cycle or really happy days where the world is my oyster, I can sign up for races and challenges and do loads of Uni work along with extra courses and enquiring about new courses to do. But then everything comes crashing down, sometimes for no reason at all and a couple of times something has triggered a downward spiral.

I saw the CMHT and have been discharged from their service after the assessment for re-referral from the GP if I need them. Although they have suggested some treatment but no point referring until I have moved as it is different health trusts. They have also suggested my medication is changed- saw a GP but not my usual Doctor as she wasn’t working but my dose has been increased to the max dose of 200mg to try and if then there is no improvement then we will need to switch medications. I had over two months worth of tablets here so I would rather try the high dose rather than waste the tablets by returning them to be destroyed by the pharmacy.

I am really weary and nervous about switching do a different medication because I don’t know what to expect. I am scared to side effects like my hair breaking and falling out that Citalopram caused. I’m scared it will affect my work, relationship or driving, along with fertility and weight. I am just scared.

I am positive about the work I am doing to secure a future in Mental Health for myself but I feel my own mental health is an unsolved mystery and I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want to be happy and I want to teach; stand up in a room and present, attend parties without heart palpitations and sweating like I have had a bucket of water thrown over me. I want to get up and get out and not hide in the house and do nothing, or think about ways to hurt myself or force weight off or even give up and pile weight on.

Although on a positive note I start bereavement counselling this month. After so many losses in the past 14 years and not grieving or speaking about them I think it is the right time to start healing those wounds. But only time will tell.