OK it’s the New Year…. And as in every new year im determined not to carry last years shit thru to the next…. But like in every new year I always manage to do so…… So this year, was no different and it’s the father/daughter relationship thing that’s got me all up the fuck……

So im 22 years of age, and nowadays i have as little to do with my father as humanly possible, the only reason i havent struck him off completely is out of love for my daughter..... Now for reasons i wont get into right now, and to please my mother, i have to try and repair my ill feelings for my father....

So ive been thinking about what im going to say to Dad, and why it is that I hate him, And after a considerable amount of thinking I may have found the true reason I have never really liked my father…..These things I didn’t even know I knew, somehow I had buried them away, and after 15 years, ready or not im about to deal with them.....

It all dates back to childhood, my earliest memory was when I was 3 yrs old, Does anyone remember the video clip to the song thriller by Wack Jacko??? Well I was terrified of it, my father used to lock me in the lounge, turn the TV up really loud and play that song, over and over again, and whilst I screamed and cried for my mother, he stood outside the door laughing at me, on one occasion, my mother arrived home to pick up something she had left behind....As she entered the house, she was greeted by a terrified screaming little girl..... Anyway she left after consoling me, and I got a hiding for getting him in trouble, and was made to listen to that song again as punishment….. I had nightmares about zombies, dead people, and cemeteries up until I was 9, finding myself waking, shaking, and crying… Also never wanting to sleep alone, and being scared of the dark…..

Next memory, I was still about that age, living in that same sub standard house, and mother still working fulltime to support us, One day I was playing the game simon says, and my father told me to come outside, he then gave me a baseball bat and told me to start hitting my mothers car, being 3 years old, I had no idea why I was doing it, but because my father told me to do it, I did it…. That day my father and I smashed up my mothers first car to a barely recognisable state, because she come home a few hours late.......

Now this happened when I was about 6 years old, My father was at the pub drinking, the time was about 8.30pm and the power went off due to the storm outside….. My sister and I were both a little scared of the lightning, so my mother stayed in the bedroom with us both until we fell asleep….. My father come home late that night, and my sister and I could hear my father yelling, and my mother crying and being thrown around the room like a rag doll….. He then come into our room, got us out of bed, and made us watch him beating on my mother, she had a swollen eye, swollen jaw, and blood coming from her cut lip….. I remember my sister crying and telling him to stop, but I know I didn’t cry myself, all I remember was my father saying it was funny, and laughing his sarcastic little laugh with a stupid snarky grin on his face, he had her by the hair, and as he smiled, he would hit her again and again, the more kelly cried the more he hit her, Ive never seen a women so helpless, defenseless and afraid, as i did in my mother that night ….. We were made to watch him, because mum said "SSSSHH youll wake up the kids"...... My mother took me and my sister and left town the very next day…Only to be reunited in the same, nothings changed, violent and abusive bullshit, just 3 months later….

Now those were 3 instances I gave u, my sister and I have had to endure at least 15 years of teasing, and putdowns… My sister, being the stronger of the two of us, has been able to handle herself for a few years now, giving him lip and generally fighting back, unlike myself who just puts up with it, that was until I saw it happening to my daughter, and started seeing my daughter as myself, he even went so far as to giving her a shot tequila, and telling her to drink it, in hope that she will find it yuck and never touch it again…. Thats the sort of man my father is....... I imagine cass is confused to why she loves her poppa so much when all he does is picks on her........ My father is the highlight of my daughters day, which I too can relate to…..

I also have fond memories of my father, for my 8th birthday he hired a limo, and took the family and 2 of my friends to pizza hut in the city..... On my 6th birthday, we went on holiday staying in flash motels, which i know mum payed for, but he picked the motels..... And on my 7th birthday, i got a steel riders bike, it was pink and black, with chrome like wheels and handle bars, it even had spokes, it was the latest kids fad at the time, and i know my father picked the bike, as he always wanted the biggest and best of everything, even if it was only for me.......

I would like this pain and hurt to go away, i would like to have a father whom i love, i want to truly give him forgiveness, i want to be able to accept him as part of my life as well as my familys....... I want to give my mother my blessing, which will allow her to take him back fully...... But until then, i will ignore his presence in the house as best i can, my mother will be caught in between our silent battle, he will try his very best not to get under my skin, and my daughter will go on blissfully unaware of the troublesome past her mummy is now facing today......

So how does one forgive the unforgivable??????, is it possible?????
Am I doomed to feel hatred for the rest of my life??? Shall I grin and bare it????, let bygones be bygones???? Leave the past where it belongs???? Look forward to a rewarding future relationship with my father perhaps?????……
To be perfectly honest I don’t know if I can, or even where to begin……