I found my father’s briefcase in the basement. Musty black leather. Inside, his perfect block lettering. Drawings he made. He drew so well. Some part of me longs to be like him. Which part draws me? Alcoholism? Wife battering? Abandoning his kids? Suicide? Some part of me misses him and wants to be like him. I don’t have any bad feelings toward him. I’ve never been angry with him or felt any judgement toward him.
And then there is me. I do something good, something kind, something smart, and I feel good. For ten minutes. An hour. Then it slips away and I’m sick of myself again. My easiest emotional reaction to myself is condemnation. It is so easy to judge myself. Lazy. Fat. Stupid. Boring. My brain tries to tell me I am a good father, a good husband. Interesting. But some part of me wants to suffer. It crushes me. Ruins my sleep. Follows me everywhere I go and judges everything I do. Not creative enough. Doesn't matter. Pathetic. I deserve to suffer. But I don’t know why. My brain sees that my father failed. That I am succeeding in many ways, but it doesn’t reach the part of me that hates me. If it were anyone else judging themselves so cruelly I would be kind to them. I would tell them they were good. Brilliant. Wonderful. Why am I the only one in the world that doesn’t deserve any kindness? I don’t know what to do about it.
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4 comments:
thanks for continuing to share so openly about your struggles! i think your desire to be connected with the man who gave you life, despite all his brokenness, is beautiful. i think a lot of things in this post speak to your ability to love deeply and well, which is so evident when you talk about your wife and your family! im praying you continue to grow in showing yourself that same love.
This is a tragedy.
This is terrible illustration of a father's power and influence.
I hope that someday soon your amazingness will seep deep down into your psyche and be deeply and finally believed.
I hope that the voice of your true Father will be louder than the voice of this man who really doesn't get to be called father.
True fathers empower, bless, equip, provide, and protect... he really fulfilled about zero of these qualifications.
You have been provided for and protected in some pretty amazing ways though...
Thank you for the privilege33 of letting me into your inner thoughts.
There is so much pain in your soul. With good reason.
What I see is a man who is rising out of the ashes and sorrows. Struggling, yes. But a man who persists, a man who gives his children so much love, fun, and also acknowledgement of failure, but persisting any way.
I am so glad you have shared this and that you are my son. My life is better because of you. I have counted you as a safe man for me and am grateful.
I used to think if I was happy I would be a bimbo. . .oh and I hated the idea of being a bimbo. . . so I did this weird thing. . . I made myself miserable and could not ever see the good in myself. Finally I said, "I don't care if I become the air head of all air heads- I refuse to live with misery anymore" and something really powerful happened. I became happy. I began to like myself. I got really pissed off at all the people who hurt me. . . and I gave all that stuff to God to figure out. (a many year process for me) So much of my energy was going out trying to figure out how justice would look, that I was still being swallowed by the evil that I was being drowned in. I gave God permission to do the judgement thing and figure out the mess, I could breathe for the first time and realized just how much God cared about even the little injustices, that I thought were tiny. And I became a bit of a spiritual nut. . .but hey. . . no air in my brain, just a lot less pain.
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