Friday, April 26, 2013

Dad, I Forgive You

I’m reading the book The Father Factor and I want to do an exercise from it. Dad, I forgive you for not getting the help you need for your own stuff. You therefore couldn’t help transmitting to the rest of us your anguish and anxiety. You had parents who neglected you and therefore you were never able to be affectionate. I have no doubt that you loved me and I have no doubt that you did the best you could and you always aimed for upright behavior, but you’re uncomfortable with emotion and you’re fundamentally ill at ease with yourself and with others. You avoid emotion as much as you can and that has left me struggling with how to deal with emotion. You’re not demonstrative and affectionate. You’re not comfortable saying, I love you, unless you’re on a stage in front of people. Your inability to deal with emotion and to let people around you know that you love them left me feeling worthless. I’ve battled all of my life with a deep feeling of worthlessness. Much of the time, I feel like a horrible person. I forgive you for infecting me with your high levels of anxiety. I forgive you for not seeking the help you need. Jesus is not enough. Your own life proves that. Dad, I forgive you for putting your career ahead of my well-being and best interests. Dad, I forgive you for needing to be the center of attention everywhere we went. Dad, I forgive you for your insatiable need to stir up controversy so that you could have people talking about you. This constant tension in the home and everywhere you went was not in our best interests, but you were in the grip of your own emotional addictions and you were not willing to seek help. Dad, I forgive you for having a total block at learning anything from me. Dad, I forgive you for your inability to have a normal conversation. Your primary interest is in giving instruction rather than emotional connection. Dad, I forgive you for your inability to share much with me about your life beyond the pro forma. Dad, I forgive you for having a need for control so great that you would try to distort the reality around us by denying what was really happening in our home so that we could keep up appearances. Dad, I forgive you for speaking for me so often and not allowing me to say what I feel and to own my own reality. If I feel, you had to speak up and let everyone know I was ok, even if I was in great pain and wanting to speak for myself. Anything else is a minor detail.