e mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

Those dark childhood days have reared ugly demons today; my older sister being forced to eat her own vomit, the beatings with a closed fist, being spanked until we cried and threaten if we did cry, but the spanking would not stop until we did cry. Lesson is not learned if you did not break even though it is against the rules to break. Just from a simple phone call. So many emotions, fears, losses, not understanding others emotions to the same situation. Let me explain. It started when my older sister decided to track down our run away father. When we were children we thought he was god like. Then when he ran away it slowly dawned on us that a lot of our demons were from what dad did to us. Now I am older and still learning what his problem is. I look in the mirror and see him a lot in me.

Now back to my older sister. She sent him a card. Eventually he responded. They met and he is old and disabled and might even lose his leg or legs. I am curious about him, but do not want him to come around. I am 47 and scared to death of this failing man. I remember things he did to my older sister that she does not recall ever happening. I get scared that maybe I can not remember things that were done to me because I see it happening to her. Well she is not sorry for his sad state because he was or is a conceded man and I have to agree with her some on that. Having his looks go and some health problems knocked him down a few rungs of the latter. She is glad she got to confront him to see how he is doing and to see if she could conquer her own fears of him. She was glad she was not afraid and thought it would be good for me to do the same. I know what she says is true, but I started to cry before we hung up and I spent the rest of the evening trying to stop crying and stop thinking.

First reliving a lot of awful moments and wanting to have words spoke to you by a dad. Like; “I love you”. Saying it only because our mom said for him to say it. Then next thing I cried about is how this is his only place he has a chance for happiness if he is not right with God. I don’t want him to have failing health and amputated legs if he does not seek to gain heaven. So I spent the wee hours crying for God to give him some relief. Some sort of happiness. I have known for a long time that Dads behavior was partly from chemical imbalance and for the first time we; (my older sister and I) found out he sees things. Probably hears voices too. I can remember my older sister battling some of this while we grew up. I did not have that battle until the last five years. I bet my cruel grandmother also had the same imbalances. I do think she was also a mean person and taught my dad to be that way, but the physical imbalance made it even worse. I think my mother and her family were the only thing that taught us girls to fight to be different.

I have to work hard at times to want to live. I have to work hard sometimes to keep from being insane. Tonight I had to work hard not to dwell on the abuse and pain. During my first marriage when my first husband became sexually abusive I would go into the closet and hold myself and rock myself and whisper over and over again that it was going to be all right. I have to fight the temptation to go into a closet tonight and hold myself and rock myself so I sit in this chair instead chanting in a whisper that it will be all right. Dad did not sexually abuse us. But he did help make us crazy and he beat us for the wrong reasons and also too harshly. Instead of a spanking it was brutal lessons. We were not allowed to cry, not allowed to be sick, not allowed to laugh too much. We were tough as nails just like him well into our adult life. Unfortunately family members still catch the old lessons in action. Not allowing myself to be sick. I get teased about being sick when I finally do get sick and the older I get the harder it is to will myself well. It used to be so easy. Flue symptoms and you stand in front of the mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

<o come around. I am 47 and scared to death of this failing man. I remember things he did to my older sister that she does not recall ever happening. I get scared that maybe I can not remember things that were done to me because I see it happening to her. Well she is not sorry for his sad state because he was or is a conceded man and I have to agree with her some on that. Having his looks go and some health problems knocked him down a few rungs of the latter. She is glad she got to confront him to see how he is doing and to see if she could conquer her own fears of him. She was glad she was not afraid and thought it would be good for me to do the same. I know what she says is true, but I started to cry before we hung up and I spent the rest of the evening trying to stop crying and stop thinking.

First reliving a lot of awful moments and wanting to have words spoke to you by a dad. Like; “I love you”. Saying it only because our mom said for him to say it. Then next thing I cried about is how this is his only place he has a chance for happiness if he is not right with God. I don’t want him to have failing health and amputated legs if he does not seek to gain heaven. So I spent the wee hours crying for God to give him some relief. Some sort of happiness. I have known for a long time that Dads behavior was partly from chemical imbalance and for the first time we; (my older sister and I) found out he sees things. Probably hears voices too. I can remember my older sister battling some of this while we grew up. I did not have that battle until the last five years. I bet my cruel grandmother also had the same imbalances. I do think she was also a mean person and taught my dad to be that way, but the physical imbalance made it even worse. I think my mother and her family were the only thing that taught us girls to fight to be different.

I have to work hard at times to want to live. I have to work hard sometimes to keep from being insane. Tonight I had to work hard not to dwell on the abuse and pain. During my first marriage when my first husband became sexually abusive I would go into the closet and hold myself and rock myself and whisper over and over again that it was going to be all right. I have to fight the temptation to go into a closet tonight and hold myself and rock myself so I sit in this chair instead chanting in a whisper that it will be all right. Dad did not sexually abuse us. But he did help make us crazy and he beat us for the wrong reasons and also too harshly. Instead of a spanking it was brutal lessons. We were not allowed to cry, not allowed to be sick, not allowed to laugh too much. We were tough as nails just like him well into our adult life. Unfortunately family members still catch the old lessons in action. Not allowing myself to be sick. I get teased about being sick when I finally do get sick and the older I get the harder it is to will myself well. It used to be so easy. Flue symptoms and you stand in front of the mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

bout is how this is his only place he has a chance for happiness if he is not right with God. I don’t want him to have failing health and amputated legs if he does not seek to gain heaven. So I spent the wee hours crying for God to give him some relief. Some sort of happiness. I have known for a long time that Dads behavior was partly from chemical imbalance and for the first time we; (my older sister and I) found out he sees things. Probably hears voices too. I can remember my older sister battling some of this while we grew up. I did not have that battle until the last five years. I bet my cruel grandmother also had the same imbalances. I do think she was also a mean person and taught my dad to be that way, but the physical imbalance made it even worse. I think my mother and her family were the only thing that taught us girls to fight to be different.

I have to work hard at times to want to live. I have to work hard sometimes to keep from being insane. Tonight I had to work hard not to dwell on the abuse and pain. During my first marriage when my first husband became sexually abusive I would go into the closet and hold myself and rock myself and whisper over and over again that it was going to be all right. I have to fight the temptation to go into a closet tonight and hold myself and rock myself so I sit in this chair instead chanting in a whisper that it will be all right. Dad did not sexually abuse us. But he did help make us crazy and he beat us for the wrong reasons and also too harshly. Instead of a spanking it was brutal lessons. We were not allowed to cry, not allowed to be sick, not allowed to laugh too much. We were tough as nails just like him well into our adult life. Unfortunately family members still catch the old lessons in action. Not allowing myself to be sick. I get teased about being sick when I finally do get sick and the older I get the harder it is to will myself well. It used to be so easy. Flue symptoms and you stand in front of the mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

rd not to dwell on the abuse and pain. During my first marriage when my first husband became sexually abusive I would go into the closet and hold myself and rock myself and whisper over and over again that it was going to be all right. I have to fight the temptation to go into a closet tonight and hold myself and rock myself so I sit in this chair instead chanting in a whisper that it will be all right. Dad did not sexually abuse us. But he did help make us crazy and he beat us for the wrong reasons and also too harshly. Instead of a spanking it was brutal lessons. We were not allowed to cry, not allowed to be sick, not allowed to laugh too much. We were tough as nails just like him well into our adult life. Unfortunately family members still catch the old lessons in action. Not allowing myself to be sick. I get teased about being sick when I finally do get sick and the older I get the harder it is to will myself well. It used to be so easy. Flue symptoms and you stand in front of the mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

e mirror telling yourself harshly you are not sick not allowed to be sick. Some of dad's voice I remember while saying this to myself. Symptoms usually gone by the end of the day and no latter then the next day. I use to not cry and once I did allow myself to cry the gate broke and it’s been hard to stop ever sense. Part of me is glad to know that a lot of my problems are genetic from what ever imbalances ruin our bodies and minds. Another part of me is so sad that my dad suffered and is suffering with seemingly little medical help. I am also sad that my children had to live through some of the same while I learned not to be my dad.

I wish I could direct him to try to balance out his system with herbs. I went the medicine route for over two years and ended up worse than I started. I could list the combinations the doc tried on me. When I became violent I decided to take matters into my own hands and have had much more success doing my own treatments then what the meds did.

Well my Dad knows now that I do not live too far away. I am scared he will come to my door. He never has looked for us girls before and the only reason he contacted my older sister was because she indicated she wanted contact. But some how I am scared he will come to my door. My husband asked me if he should allow him in if he were to ever show up. A big part of me wants to jump behind my husband and say yes block him. I can remember being so shy that it hurt me for people to look at me. It would hurt me in my mind for dad to see me, because all the mean things he said would run through my mind and he would not be able to help himself at some point in conversation to say something mean. I know I need to let him talk with me if he really ever does show up and somehow I need to be able to politely correct him if he does say anything unkind. Maybe than my fears will dissolve. I love my dad and if I was rich I would see to his comfort. Maybe this life is the only comfort he will have. Also though I never want him to be a communicating part of my life. Just too much damage has been done. Even though he is forgiven I can not risk the chance of being verbally abused by him at all.

So it looks as if I still have a lot of fears to conquer and a lot of hurts that may never heal. I can accept this and my struggles will make sure that my life is never boring. I am never bored. These things I list here are scratches to what life has been like. I should write a book if only I knew it would come out right and would help others. I think too much of it would hurt others and I would be forced to write it as fictional so as to keep safe my loved ones. Well it's taken a half sleepless night and a swollen face from too much crying to get to a peaceful spot. I think the rest of my new day will go well. Funny I did not find calm until I exerted energy cleaning the floors. I wonder if that is why I am a clean fanatic. Therapy from stress. Kind of like heating things up; boiling those demons through hot hard labor. My crippled hips will punish me later. But for now I have sweet release.

Stife in our life is but a grain of sand once we stand in heaven looking back and see it for real the first time.

In Light Lynn - http://ragnarcellular.com/cellularphone/buy_cell_phone.html Please keep name and link with story upon reuse.