It’s not often I share personal things and feelings with anyone, not just on my blog but in general. Yes I shared Keira’s story but that’s because I don’t want her memory forgotten.
I sometimes find it hard to share personal things incase others judge but I’m now giving it a go. Here is a tiny insight into my past. It’s almost Father’s Day and also my birthday and time to talk about the man who bought me into this world- My Dad. Tho I’m now unsure if he has the right to that title.
I remember my childhood well, growing up in a mid terraced (bought) house. My brother, sister and me were close and as kids do, got on with life believing all was fine.
When I was 7 my mum and dad split up. My mum had met someone else and left and our Dad ended up bringing us three up alone. I’m unsure the exact reasons for this. I have been told he threatened suicide if my mum took us and also been told my mum didn’t want us.
Now this was 1983, back then single mothers were still frowned upon bit single dads were pretty much non existant. My dad was seen as a hero, a martyr by his family and friends. “Look at that guy raising 3 kids alone!” They would say. Many pitied him and wondered where our mum had gone, but he was well liked by all.
He was a good dad, taught us right from wrong, bought us up well and did what he could. We saw our mum 2 or 3 times every week and things quickly got back to normal. We accepted it being so young.
When I was 10, just before starting high school my dad joined a single parent group. I remember us going on holidays and trips away with them and made a fair few friends. Little did I know this group would have a big impact on my life.
My dad met someone when I was 11. I will call her “the wife” for privacy issues.
The wife also had 3 children similar ages to us all. She seemed nice and friendly and I liked her at first.
They got married when I was 12 and we ended up moving miles away knit her house, I moved school and away from all my friends.
Living with The wife and her kids turned into a nightmare. Her kids always seemed to come first like they could never do anything wrong. Her son and daughter were bullies and made me feel worthless. The wife had stupid rules for the house. She would interfere in my private things, listen to phone calls, not let me see friends etc etc. she would also call my mum to our face.
My dad had turned into a shadow of his former self. A quivering wreck who almost bowed down to her. He agreed with all she said. She ruled our roost. She controlled the money, the phone, the rules and everything else.
I endured 4 years living with this woman and her kids and by 16 I had enough. I waited until my dad and her were away and boarded a one train to London.
I was a 16 year old child on a train to the capital. A strange unknown world of bright lights, busy people and hidden dangers. I had no money, no one and no clue as to what I was doing. But I was not scared I was free and happy.
London was so different to the life I previously knew. I had to learn fast. I made friends and stayed in hostels, squats or where ever I could. I eventually got a really good job in a club and enjoyed being there. The clubs, the glitz, the after parties and the money. This was my first job apart from a paper round and the pay was good as was the life.
I stayed in London for 4 years and then moved back North near my mum. I eventually saw my dad and the wife. Relationship obviously strained but gradually built up. He was still controlled by her. Everything he did he looked for her approval.
Just over 11 years ago. Something awful happened to me. I don’t want to say what it was on my blog but it was truly awful, heart wrenching and something no one should ever have to go through. It totally ruined my life. It’s the sort of thing that one would expect family to help and rally around. My mum tried to help but my dad and The Wife did the opposite. They turned against me and made the situation ten times worse. Totally destroying any chance of happiness or recovery.
It’s been over 11 years since I spoke to my Dad. I saw him last year at my sisters wedding, with The wife. He looked old and withered. He attempted to talk but not much came out. He is too controlled by the wife to have a voice of his own these days.
In the past 11 years I have made attempts to try to resolve things. I send letters and photographs but all to no avail. I imagine the wife checks the post thoroughly and discards them.
My son Ryan is 10 years old. He has never met his Grandfather. Sometimes he will ask why.
My dad turned 70 last year. I know time is short but it’s not through want nor trying. I would say the decision now lies with him but while the wife is with him that decision will never be his but hers.
So please forgive me if I don’t seem in the Father’s Day spirit like other bloggers may do.
If I don’t bombard you all with Happy Father’s Day message on June 15; then it’s not because I can’t be bothered or because it’s my birthday. It’s because I don’t have a dad to ring up, a dad to send a card too (I gave up on cards years ago). Sometimes it really gets me down. One thing I would never do is stop my children seeing their dad. As I know they will feel the same as I do when they are older.