With Andra’s help, I was able to unveil what had happened to me during childhood. I no longer
lie to myself that it was something insignificant that had no impact on me. I no longer hide behind
everything I have achieved despite what happened to me.
I am now 31 years old; I am too old for therapy and it’s too late to dig up the dead, or at least this
is what my mom keeps telling me. But his shout – even though I know that it is no longer pointed at
me and that that person can no longer touch me – still turns me into the helpless and captive child that
I was when he used to beat me. I still avoid subjects that I know could trigger him. I still get the
impression that all the good things in my life are on the verge of collapsing. I still can’t imagine why
someone would want to share their life with me. I am still shaken in awe by anything I feel I inherited
from him.
So there is still work to be done, I guess. I just want to sit him at the table and inventory all the ways
in which he hurt me. I don’t care if he understands, if he asks for forgiveness – he’s already
reconfigured his memories and cemented his victim status in our family story – but I just want to
gather enough strength to be able to talk to him about these things without my voice failing or me
getting sick.