Asshole

I have learned NEVER to use that word about any man.

But there is an exception to every rule.

I am embracing words from a book called “The Wounded Heart:  Hope for Adult Victims of Childhood Sexual Abuse.”  Dan Allender says in this book that it IS good to confront your abuser, if possible, when you are ready; to seek reconciliation; that it should begin with a rebuke.  I have sensed this going on between my father and me without my consciously willing it.  However it has gone awry with his charging at me over my Baptism this past Saturday.  They created a ridiculous contrivance, a special dinner with a setup to try to take me down.  I posted about it last night.

Which leaves me free to launch my torpedoes.  I fostered and facilitated his book, his entire writing “career” (he considers it as such) since he had the stroke, in early 94–right after my son was born.  He hid inside the writing because his mind was gone.  He stopped playing the piano and listening to classical music.  He lost his connection with God.

As former “Hutton ‘Dove'” “President” (Editor of the undergraduate literary magazine) one thing I did NOT screw up was launching writers and editors associated with the magazine on their careers.  Indeed, that year and associated years were ripe for success in publishing.  As I noted to my parents over dinner last night, all my old friends were writers; I was a writer.  As Hutton Dove President I fouled up as a writer, and I was very conscious of it.  I was responsible for facilitating other writers and it was horrible for me as an extremely unique literary voice.  36 years later I am seeking to renew my vocation, which was lost and twisted.  I hate to be a Francis Farmer, that feels so sad to me.  After being put in the state hospital by her mother because she wanted to quit her acting career, she got a lobotomy there.  She got out and went on to host a t.v. show.  I saw that movie with my parents days after getting out of the state hospital for the first time, where I had been in recovery from an ICU experience that fried my brain,

I also encouraged my father in his pride over his career successes.  Part of my education as a Hutton undergraduate was to study and understand his work, which was obscure and involved privileged information.  In the writing that I did do, one of the things I did was to connect with my dad about his experiences and achievements, giving language and shape to how he had contributed to this unbelievable revolution which was still in the making back then:  the “compunications revolution.”

I was the wit of the family.  It was all taken for granted because of my time in the state hospital.  This sucks.  I was a creative genius and a guiding light.  I don’t mind saying it.  It is necessary because my ex husband, who is a big part of the picture, doesn’t understand.  He quotes me and puts stuff I say on line.  He brags about me and my father in first class on his way to and from contact work.  Meanwhile as I am beginning to understand he has started boffing someone else and he wants it to be serious and he has me tied up in the works and he had better get serious about where he wants me in his life and how I am going to be compensated for the major role I and my family have played in bringing him to his current place of career and social success.

I was baptized on Saturday.  With this comes a renewed faith, and, as I have said, unbelievably, a renewed faith in my vocation that was shattered years ago.  I don’t want to be dependent on a man for my livelihood and identity.  But I do want compensation for the power and information and connectedness he gained at the cost of my physical and emotional well-being, always on a promise, one which he spends his time now trying to fancy foot himself out of and its not going to work.

I started out by talking about my father.

The point is, he doesn’t stand up for me.  I have helped him in concrete and innumerable ways, meanwhile he bashes me.  Its not really comprehensible.  Because of the incident for which I am rebuking him, he shoots me down.  He gets away with it.  Ive had enough of this.  I can only hope and pray that Jesus will work a way for me here, I am asking my ex to renew my alimony, if I am forced to live here I am living at their behest in a way that isn’t right but I don’t know what to do about it.

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