Inside my head - the sequel

A few days ago I posted the first part of what was going on in my head a few months into my illness. Here's the sequel written in the early hours of 22 September 2010.


If any of my family are reading this, please remember I was ill at the time and very confused...

As I’ve said, my childhood wasn’t awful. At least I think I try to tell myself it wasn’t because in comparison to others I was lucky.

I’m the youngest of two daughters to my wonderful Mum and not so wonderful Dad. My Mum is the best Mum in world; what you’d call a proper Mum! She has had to put up with so much in her life, and yet she’s the nicest, kindest, sweetest person I know. My Dad wasn’t what you’d call a family man – his priorities were the Social Club, his mistress and then his family, in that order. I would go for days not seeing him because he’d almost always get home after I’d gone to bed and was off to work before I got up for school. I remember when he would come home late at night, often arguing with my Mum if she’d waited up for him. I remember him looking in on me when he thought I was asleep, kneeling down beside my bed to give me a cuddle, only for me to realise within seconds he’d fallen asleep with his heavy head resting on me! I remember not daring to move – not because he would be angry, but because I didn’t want to wake him and end this little bit of affection from my Dad. But I guess I hated him for it – even now if Simon falls asleep and I feel his head become heavy on me, I feel angry, but I can’t really say why. I just hate it.

I was a troublesome child, unlike my older sister, Louise. My Dad had a temper on him, and I was the one that always brought it to the surface! I never meant to antagonise him (I still hear my Mum saying ‘don’t antagonise your father’!). I remember trying so hard to please him, not to make him angry or shout at me. But it seemed the harder I tried the worse I was! It’s still a standing joke in the family and still gets jovially brought up in family get-togethers – "Helen was so clumsy, accident prone, a drama queen, a trouble-magnet, a worry etc. etc.... it wasn’t funny then but oh how we can laugh about it now...." Arghhhhh!

Louise had a much better relationship with Dad, I guess because she wasn’t any trouble. And Dad seemed to love her so much more for that, hence why I tried so hard but sadly got it so wrong so many times. He didn’t have much of a childhood himself; his parents died when he was a young boy. I just don’t think he could cope with being part of a family, certainly not with a high maintenance daughter like me. I believe he saw me as a burden; an irritating and unwanted responsibility that meant he couldn’t leave and go off with his mistress of 18 or so years.

At the age of 47, and after an agonising year of human deterioration, my Dad died of Cancer (I was 17). I only remember the bad times. My Mum says he loved me ‘in his own way’. I want so much to talk to him and get the truth, but that will never happen now.
The reason I reflect on my Dad is that through the counseling I’ve had to date, it appears that my relationship with my Dad, or lack of it, has contributed to where I am now. I say ‘appears’ because I still don’t want to believe it. Like I say, mine wasn’t a terrible childhood compared to others and I feel ashamed that I’ve not dealt with it better.

Thanks for reading....

Take care, Helen x