Complicated grief

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This morning, after an early weights session, I received a text from my sister telling me my dad had passed away in the early morning. An hour later, my older brother for whom I haven’t spoken to for years messaged me:

Hi ,

Your father X Y Z Pappa just died at The Sisters of the Poor in his sleep peacefully at 12:30am.

We were all there during afternoon to say goodbye forever…..

Love from us all.

Then lots of names were added.

*********

I reconciled a while back that my dad could die and I would perhaps not get to say goodbye or have any form of resolution. I feel nothing but then everything. I guess that says something? I hate it when my brother calls him “Pappa”, like we belong to the family in the ‘sound of music’.

There’s a part of me that feels bad for not being a better daughter. For not being kinder and more considerate. What proof do I have that he did abhorrent things? I know he beat my sister, verbally abused us, but that’s it. Is that so worthy of my silence and rejection?

Three days ago S, my girlfriend broke up with me. Well she needs some time off. Which I think is code for her buying time and mustering the courage to break it off. I’m gutted. I didn’t see it coming. Or maybe I was just blind to it. There’s been so much going on. The thing is, I believed she was a stayer. I truly believed her. She was so convincing. “I want to be with you forever”, “I want to get old with you” blah blah blah. I knew it was stupid. Too much of an age difference. Shoe was on the other foot this time. Me having always been the youngest in the past.

She said it feels like we are just co existing, just friends. The intimacy has gone. She said she’s been feeling like this for six months – thanks for telling me. I could feel she had given up on us.

At least now I can start fresh. Maybe have a relationship with no complex set up story or troubled history. Not that I want a relationship. I’m scared off. I feel like I’ve gotten my karma. You reap what you sow. But maybe I can date someone by age and be normal for once. Or maybe like many other SRA survivors I just can’t do relationships. Cos I’ll keep fuckin them up.

My mother is dying too – spinal cancer – not long to go. So yeah, do they say things happen in three’s?

I’m thankful I have two dogs and a roof over my head.

When I think about my father I feel sick. Ashamed. Angry. Confused. Despondent. Sad. Apathetic.

When I think about my mother I feel tired and angry and hurt and over it. And maybe a bit vindictive.

When I think about S, I feel sad and lonely and embarrassed and duped and stupid and unattractive.

Published by Leni

I am a 42 year old woman and survivor of satanic ritual abuse. I have dissociative identity disorder and experience complex PTSD symptoms. Despite this, I am relatively high functioning and tend to be very active and engaged in life. I started remembering my abuse at around the age of 25. Prior to that I had no solid memory of my childhood and things just felt blank. I was programmed to keep very busy in order to forget my abuse and so I was always on the go and doing things. I was lucky to find an interest in the creative arts and filmmaking, so my pursuits have mostly been very stimulating and enjoyable, though hard work. Almost everything I did kept me away from myself and I would say that I was extremely disconnected from the way that I felt in general. I always felt something was wrong, but couldn't put my finger on it. When I discovered I had been sexually abused as a child, it was like my whole world changed and everything that I had felt or experienced prior to this was a lie. Everything, yet nothing, made sense. I wanted to pursue recovery and wholeness immediately, but the more I tried to do this, the more walls I kept hitting. Programming was inbuilt in me to 'not remember' and I thought I would die if I did. The paradox was, that I longed to die, and suffered suicidal ideation on an almost daily basis for over ten years. I had used drugs and alcohol from the age of 13 to self soothe and medicate and the turning point for me was when I hit a rock bottom with drinking at the age of 31. I went into AA and that really kickstarted my journey of recovery. I learnt how to deal with life without picking up a drink or a drug and most importantly, I was led to my real saviour, Jesus Christ. Almost a year into being sober, I started hearing voices. I had heard these voices for a long time but had stifled them with alcohol and drugs. The voices were extremely loud and negative and told me to kill myself. I sought psychotherapy and prayer ministry and it was through these experiences that I discovered I had dissociative parts of self (multiple personalities). Since accepting this, I have definitely started to get better, although it has been a long journey. I am in my tenth year of sobriety and on a very personal, determined journey to find myself within my fragmented identity. This is a blog about Dissociation, Satanic Ritual Abuse, God and other stuff. I live in Melbourne, Australia. Please stick around and share your thoughts too.

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6 thoughts on “Complicated grief”

  1. I am so very, very sorry. Things like this should wait their turn, allow space to grieve between them. It’s not fair, just not fair. I wish I were closer geographically to lend support, but I’m not.

    Yes, it is complicated grief, complicated relationships, complicated lives. I don’t think you did anything wrong in not trying a last minute reconciliation with your father. What he did to his children, if that was “all,” was horrendous in itself. And you are under no obligation to go see your mother. You have only yourself, in reality, and you can put yourself first without guilt.

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