Healing
Posted on 2006-01-05
I don't think I've completely healed yet. I'm not really sure what that means, except that I don't think I have. Not completely, not really, maybe not ever. Actually, I know that I haven't. Does one ever heal completely??? Even when skin is cut and then heals, a scar is usually left behind [even if you have to look very closely in order to see it], a reminder that there was a time when blood oozed out and pain, or at least some discomfort, was experienced. You don't have to think about the scar to move on. But the scar still remains all the same.
The scars remind us of the scrapes and accidents we got ourselves into. Careless accidents. They remind us and we are, perhaps, more watchful in the future.
And then there are the memories, which also serve as a reminder of the things that we said or did, the words that we wished had never been spoken, or the deeds we wished had never been carried out. And sometimes the deeds weren't ours, but someone else's.
I sometimes wonder if another member of my family would downplay what has happened between my Dad and I. It is still important - to me - that people recognise that what he�s done to me is wrong, that it hurt me, and that is still does some twenty plus years later. If this is being self-absorbed, so be it. No one else lives in this body but me. No one lives my life but me. The same goes for everyone else and their lives. In order to heal, I have to accept what's done is done; yet I'm unable to do that. And, as my therapist said to me today, my inability to do so means I can't move on.
And yet I don't hate him. I can't hate him. Not anymore. Even when I was younger I never really hated him. Naturally there were conflicting emotions. Love and hate went together. But I also missed him, wishing very much that I had a father to go to, to talk to, another parent who could advise me. I have my Mum, yes, but she's my Mum. She wasn't my Dad. I wanted him to be there for me, but he never was. And I know, perhaps, that I put him on a pedestal but did I do so because he was no longer there, just a subconscious memory of him that seemed to get a little more blurry and faded with time???
Everything would have been different, I'm sure, if he were a part of my life back then. What would I have been like??? Would I still be quiet and uncertain at times??? Would I be holding in my emotions, allowing anger and frustration to simmer below the surface??? Would I have been a better person, or am I a better person precisely because of this experience??? But that's enough of those questions, for they're futile and I know it.
There is still more healing to be done, I'm sure of that. I grieve for what I lost and for what I've never had. But neither of our lives is over yet, so maybe one day the healing will be complete.