I saw and bookmarked this, and had to think about this before responding. As you might guess, I did not write this all in one sitting; I wrote this on a Word document and copied to DU posting.
Lydia, I am not absolutely positive, but what you describe sounds like I am the DUer who you are referring to.
Whether I am the DUer you are referring to or not, I would like to say a few things on my behalf.
First of all, I consider my dad to have been many times emotionally and psychologically abusive. This is true even though he did many very good things and many nice things, and was not by any means the worst father or worst parent anybody ever had..
I had my problems with my dad well into my adulthood, in my 20’s and even early 30’s.
My biggest frustration was that I was unable, and did not know how, to deal with him while he was alive.
I was most of the time not able to resolve disagreements or differences with my dad in a way that I could be happy with.
I was often overpowered at the time of a disagreement. My dad would tell me he was saying or doing something “
for my own good”, and with the best of intentions, and I would be talked into accepting it (even if it was really not OK with me), and the matter was considered settled. It was always something wrong with me, or my problem, if I wanted to discuss something again, or brought it up, or if I were still upset about something.
I never would have thought, or dared to think, of my dad as being in any way abusive while he was alive. It was about a year after my dad died (and he was no longer around to talk me out of my feelings, something he was good at doing), that I came to realize how really angry I still was at him, and that yes, some of his behavior was abusive, and some of his attitudes were very disrespectful to me.
Upon becoming fully aware of my anger toward my dad and the abusive nature of his behavior, I realized I had turned a corner from which there would be no going back. I was in much therapy, both individual and group therapy, to deal with my issues, and to determine for myself what I needed to do.
One thing I knew was that I was going to speak up when appropriate, and was not going to be silent about the truth about my dad.
And this includes speaking out here on DU, like I have done many times in the Religion and Theology forum in particular, and in my advocacy of the work of
Alice Miller, who has advocated on behalf of the (almost universally, in some manner, abused or mistreated) child each of us once was. In particular I speak out against the commandment, one of the “Ten Commandments” often attributed to God, to always honor our mother and father.
It is usually for very personal reasons or circumstances that one acquires, changes, or loses one’s religious beliefs. In the R/T forum I often share, when appropriate, that the realization that Christianity did not help me to deal with my dad (or did not help me to deal with, in general, any source of pain, frustration, or unhappiness in my life) is a major reason I am no longer a Christian.
Lydia, I also want to say that I consider your characterization of me (again, assuming I am the DUer that you are referring to; my apologies if I am not) as wallowing in bitterness, and not having made any great strides in the past two decades (yes, that is how long it has been since my dad died, so that is a reason for suspecting that I am who you are talking about) is not accurate.
First of all, I would want to remind people that making progress, or great strides, in one’s life is not usually a linear process, and usually one is not able to do everything one would want or like to do, or feels one “should” do.
In the years following my dad’s death, I did a lot of things that I had long wanted to do, both personally and in my work. This was true even though I was dealing with a lot of intense anger about my dad, both in therapy and elsewhere.
In the past few years I have not made as many great strides as I had in previous years. I consider that to be, as much as anything, part of the ebb and flow of life.
And even if one does make great strides in one’s life, there always may be one or more areas in which one does not do what one would like, or what one thinks one “should” do or “ought to” do.
As I have stated in other posts, I have not had a serious relationship with a woman that I wish I would have had by now in my life (at age 56), and I am currently looking for a job.
It would be nice for me to say that I have completely overcome past failures, disappointments, and circumstances, and that they have no effect on my present situation, but it would not be true. And I acknowledge that with more regret and sadness than bitterness or resentment.
And I am also dealing with present circumstances, such as my age, and the economy under the * misadministration which favors the already very rich at the expense of the middle class.
One thing I would not appreciate is any preaching or any judgmental attitude about my present circumstances.
As far as wallowing in bitterness, I want to say that earlier in my life, particularly before I came to fully realize the abusive nature of much of my dad’s behavior, I often got very easily upset, angry and offended about, or just plain resented, a lot of things that people in general did which I thought they “shouldn’t do”. I would often let something somebody said or did ruin my day, giving that person power over me.
Having become fully aware of my anger toward my dad and working with it, and dealing with other issues, and doing some important things for myself that I had long wanted to do, I have been able to reach a point at which I am much less bothered and offended by things that other people do. I have a better sense of how much importance I want to attach to something somebody does that I personally don’t like. I have been better able to deal with or confront things that are actually important enough to deal with in some way, and let go the other things.
As far as forgiving is concerned,
Alice Miller says that the worst and most harmful thing one can do is to forgive, especially one’s parents or those who have hurt one in early childhood, out of a sense of duty or adherence to traditional morality. What is absolutely essential, according to her, is to allow oneself to feel one’s real feelings and emotions, which are messages from the child we once were. These feelings, if disregarded, often manifest themselves in the form of physical symptoms or illness. The problem with forgiveness done out of a sense of obligation or duty is that it cuts one off from full awareness of one’s feelings. This is a recurring theme in Alice Miller’s books, and most especially in her latest book,
The Body Never Lies.