There is an opinion that there is such a truth as ‘It's never too late’, it applies to many areas of life or actions that you can take.
And there is when - you can be too late!
In the course of therapy I got to the point of my emotions towards my parents, as well as sorting out those qualities, patterns of thinking and patterns that were embedded in me fixed as a behavioural stereotype. I was interested in why my parents decided to act this way or that way in different situations that I observed or applied to me.
This post is about my birth father and his mum!
My birth father was not a good role model, domestic violence, alcoholism, aggression. When he drank, and these periods could be half a year long, he would abuse me and my mum. That's how I remember him, that's how he stayed.
The only good quality that I learnt from him was the understanding that there are no other people's children!
When I started to find out why he was like that, I started to learn about his childhood, about how his parents treated him! I learnt that he was abused by his mother, my grandmother. For me personally, she was a very bright and kind person who loved us all, cared for us at the expense of herself. It was a person, you know, when you just woke up, and you already have a delicious breakfast ready, and whenever you came to her, there was always something tasty, she was always happy to guests. That's how I knew her until the day she died! Kingdom of Heaven to the Man!
So, the truth is, my grandmother beat my father, cruelly punished him, while his older sister always treated with awe and love. And she punished him for anything and sometimes without reason (as he thought). And the reason of such attitude to him was the redirection of emotions of aggression because of the fact that her husband, my grandfather, cheated on her.
That is, she connected her resentment and anger at her husband with her son, in whom she could see the features of the one who offended her.
Her simple inability to control her emotions and her inability to think rationally led to cruelty towards her innocent son.
And in general, in the Soviet Union it was the norm to educate through ‘giving pussies’ - a crippled generation!
How differently people can look from the point of view of subjective reality:
For me, my grandmother is a kind, bright, caring and responsive person who loved everyone.
To my father, a tyrant who didn't show enough love, care and proper treatment.
For the father it resulted in a fixed hatred for women, and also brought up in him a pattern of aggression as a way of solving problems wherever he did not like something. And also his inability to cope with reality, it became one of the reasons for his alcoholism, well this is just my assumption, I think it's fair enough.
He grew up, had a family, but he drank a lot, a lot! And his grandmother, feeling guilty, tried to save him. Talking, persuading, scandals with drinking buddies. He was defending his reality, well, what you could call it, because he was leaving it all the time, until now! In moments of rescue attempts and persuasions, he was already abusing his mother, he could even hit her, I remember such a moment. And she kept on rescuing as long as I can remember!
And in trying to get her son out of his addiction, she was damaging her health through a tremendous amount of stress. Her health was failing, she had a heart condition from age. I was 13 my mum left my dad, best decision of her life, for which I thank her!
We were already living in Odessa when my grandmother had her first stroke once again after a bunch of nerves from the rescue.
A few years passed, the second stroke! After that my grandmother in front of me asked my father to stop drinking, manipulation through the state of course, although it gave some result, about half a year, and then everything continued. He drinks, she saves! A vicious circle through guilt and his attempts to escape from her rescue into another, drunken reality. I realise that's not the only reason, but that's not what this is about.
I was 23, I was at work. Phone call from my dad:
- Hi, Grandma's in hospital again, she's had another stroke!
- Do you need money for treatment? How is she?
- No, I don't need anything, I've got everything, I just wanted to tell you she's in hospital.
- I understand, if you need anything, just call me and tell me, I'll help in any way I can!
- All right, have a good day.
Already at that moment I knew that the 3rd stroke is a very rare thing to survive normally, the chances are 20/80.
An hour later, the phone rings:
- Dad, what's going on?
- Grandma's no longer with us!
Right now tears are flowing from the memory as I write this, and then at work a part of my life was cut short. A bright and very important person was gone from my life! I went to the loo and cried. I have since distanced myself from my father, as he was one of the main causes of her nerves and stress. I can't blame him for her death, it was her choice to save him.
When you do an act or make a choice, YOU and only YOU are responsible for it, and then the consequences will catch up with you.
It was her choice to show dislike and aggression towards him as a child. Equally it was her choice to save him from her own guilt towards him later on.
Only it was too late!
I have made and continue to make mistakes of various kinds in my life, which I then try to correct and not always it worked out!
Friends, think well about your actions and words, because it leads to certain consequences, where you CAN LEAVE!
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