arr....
I had to tell my father: I sat down at our huge-ass dinner table, just me, and him typing on his laptop. I told him "Turn off the laptop and listen, okay?"
And he sighed (don't blame him, expected a sarcastic comment or a rant about how much I hate him and his fucker-bitch harpie of a wife...who isn't actually that bad, I guess), flipped it down halfway and said, "Yes, Johnathan?"
And I had planned on being tactful, inferring and understanding....How would you feel, after days and weeks of planning and gathering up the courage to talk to your estranged father about a childhood trauma you needed help and he turns to you and calls you the wrong name?
So he caught himself: "Oh" (embarassed) "I'm so sorry...Jhonen.." (Thats not my bloody name either).
I put my head in my hands, sighed real big, and said, "There's something I wanted to tell you, because its been eating me and stresing me and making my life slightly more fucking miserable."
He frowned. "Yeah?"
I took a huge breathe, and my heart felt like it was ripping out of my chest...
I said, "When I was seven, my homeroom teacher raped me." But I guess I didn't say it loud enough. So he asked me to repeat myself, and I yelled, "He fucked me, okay? I was so small, and he fucked me."
He stared at me, and I'd never seen tears in his eyes before, but I did then. He put a hand over his mouth and said, "...when..?"
"While you weren't there...Back when you didn't know I existed." I swallowed, and suddenly felt guilty. "It was after school, my first detention, okay? He made me suck him off and raped me in...other ways...and I felt like shit about it. He hit me."
"And...Yoshie?" (My mom).
"She cried a lot." I started to get up (NOT feeling better like I thought I would.)
He put his head in his hands and cried, really quietly. "Jesus Christ."
So I left, stepped outside (it was wet and dark), and froze all the way to Lance's, on the subway and all the way from Bloor to Annette.
The weirdest, scariest and maybe best thing about it all was that I felt awful...the same way I felt with my mom when I told her...but obviously I didn't swear at her and tell her the grotesque and frankly horrifying details...
He cried for me, and I felt like he cared. For the first time. The first time e.v.e.r.
So I went to Lances, walked in and almost immediately hit the sack, pulling on my hair and crying. Lance smiled when I lay down on his bed, and hugged me until I drifted off to nightmare land. When I woke up, I caught my breathe and grabbed him, and for some reason was surprised that he was still there.
I went upstairs, I felt like screaming and I sat in the living room with all the lights off and the T.V off until I heard Lance yawn from downstairs and say my name.
I went downstairs, streaky and kind of smiling and we started kissing, and almost, ALMOST ended up back "there", but he stopped me, even though I really wanted to (not just my man parts, my head, my heart were aching in good ways and bad, literally painful ways). He put a hand on my face and kind of softly shoved me away and said "It's not a good time yet...So just wait. Trust me, you'll think so too."
I guess I was mad, at the time, but when he "excused himself" from the room (to do something by himself *ahem*), he said something that made me laugh. He winked, and said "So I'll be back in 5...10 minutes?" then looked at my pants, ( I hadn't thought to cover...it's Lance, I never do!) "10, eh?" and shut the door behind him.
Good 24 hours, bad 24 hours? I don't know...I feel indifferent. But not neutral...just...weird.
Sorry...
JV
And he sighed (don't blame him, expected a sarcastic comment or a rant about how much I hate him and his fucker-bitch harpie of a wife...who isn't actually that bad, I guess), flipped it down halfway and said, "Yes, Johnathan?"
And I had planned on being tactful, inferring and understanding....How would you feel, after days and weeks of planning and gathering up the courage to talk to your estranged father about a childhood trauma you needed help and he turns to you and calls you the wrong name?
So he caught himself: "Oh" (embarassed) "I'm so sorry...Jhonen.." (Thats not my bloody name either).
I put my head in my hands, sighed real big, and said, "There's something I wanted to tell you, because its been eating me and stresing me and making my life slightly more fucking miserable."
He frowned. "Yeah?"
I took a huge breathe, and my heart felt like it was ripping out of my chest...
I said, "When I was seven, my homeroom teacher raped me." But I guess I didn't say it loud enough. So he asked me to repeat myself, and I yelled, "He fucked me, okay? I was so small, and he fucked me."
He stared at me, and I'd never seen tears in his eyes before, but I did then. He put a hand over his mouth and said, "...when..?"
"While you weren't there...Back when you didn't know I existed." I swallowed, and suddenly felt guilty. "It was after school, my first detention, okay? He made me suck him off and raped me in...other ways...and I felt like shit about it. He hit me."
"And...Yoshie?" (My mom).
"She cried a lot." I started to get up (NOT feeling better like I thought I would.)
He put his head in his hands and cried, really quietly. "Jesus Christ."
So I left, stepped outside (it was wet and dark), and froze all the way to Lance's, on the subway and all the way from Bloor to Annette.
The weirdest, scariest and maybe best thing about it all was that I felt awful...the same way I felt with my mom when I told her...but obviously I didn't swear at her and tell her the grotesque and frankly horrifying details...
He cried for me, and I felt like he cared. For the first time. The first time e.v.e.r.
So I went to Lances, walked in and almost immediately hit the sack, pulling on my hair and crying. Lance smiled when I lay down on his bed, and hugged me until I drifted off to nightmare land. When I woke up, I caught my breathe and grabbed him, and for some reason was surprised that he was still there.
I went upstairs, I felt like screaming and I sat in the living room with all the lights off and the T.V off until I heard Lance yawn from downstairs and say my name.
I went downstairs, streaky and kind of smiling and we started kissing, and almost, ALMOST ended up back "there", but he stopped me, even though I really wanted to (not just my man parts, my head, my heart were aching in good ways and bad, literally painful ways). He put a hand on my face and kind of softly shoved me away and said "It's not a good time yet...So just wait. Trust me, you'll think so too."
I guess I was mad, at the time, but when he "excused himself" from the room (to do something by himself *ahem*), he said something that made me laugh. He winked, and said "So I'll be back in 5...10 minutes?" then looked at my pants, ( I hadn't thought to cover...it's Lance, I never do!) "10, eh?" and shut the door behind him.
Good 24 hours, bad 24 hours? I don't know...I feel indifferent. But not neutral...just...weird.
Sorry...
JV
posted by Mr. Death at 6:08 p.m.
11 Comments:
ok WOW, thats a lot to deal with in such a short period of time. that must have taken a lot, to talk to your dad. how do you feel now, about telling him. do you think he'll want to talk more about it?
sounds like lance has your best interest at heart-thats awesome.
I cant say I know him well enough to tell...Personally, I want to tell him about it more, and I'm not sure if thats because I was to spitefully guilt him, or because it will make me feel better...
I feel guilty about telling him, but as I mentioned, the same way as I did with mom: so maybe thats a good thing?
Yeah...I was cheesed at the time for obvious reasons, but happy in the long run.
JV
sometimes our lives read like stories or books...when we step back and look at them objectively we see that even at our lowest points, things could always have been worse and always got better when we just gave it a chance.
you're opening up bit by bit and that tells me that despite the horrors, that you're much stronger than maybe you know and that makes me happy.
Thank you...I think (after Lance pointed it out) that the more you talk about something, to strangers, to family, to friends, the more it seems real, the more advice you can get and the more it becomes past, not (as Lance put it) "painy-present".
Cheers
JV
he's right....even tho i knw some people who talk about certain things over and over and over again, to the point where you wonder if they are stuck in a circle. i've been that way soemtimes, and still capable of it i suppose but you gotta be able to at least see yourself moving o even if you cant bring yourself to do it just yet....does that make sense?
wow, i'm so proud of you JV...it sounds like it took a lot of courage for you to tell your dad, and i think it is good that you did. Honestly, i think he will be able to understand you maybe just a little bit better. often in the re-telling you will almost be reliving it, so it is no wonder you feel the way you do, BUT, in time i think you will find that it is helpful to you to have told him. it sounds like you are still carrying around undeserved guilt, and on an intellectual level you know it was not your fault, now you have to learn to intergrate that into your heart, into your cells, into your skin; and your dad was not there to help protect you then, but he is here now, so if he can help you i hope you can allow him to.
And it sounds like Lance is taking good care of you; good on him.
Anyway, take care of yourself Little Prince,
luv,
pj
I understand what you mean, chase...I think if I'm aware that I am talking about it, and trying to move on, it will eventually go behind me.
pj, thanks. It was hard, and would have been a huggy moment, if my father didn't get my name wrong. -_-
JV
yeah, i know what you mean.
That was very brave of you. Telling your father, I mean. I think you should talk to him about it more. Even if it doesn't help much, it might get the two of you closer. And talk to him about your name. Make sure he knows how it's pronounced. That's what I do when poeple mispronounce my name. I never let someone get away with a mispronounciation. If they don't tke your name seriously, they probably won't take you seriously either.
As usual, I'm greatly amused by your Lance-conversations.
I agree...I've tried to sit down and pronounce it, but its embarrasing...And if he knew he always got my name wrong, why not (I dunno) just call me Johnny like everyone else? Would have been simpler...
JV
Damn, you have been through a lot. More than anyone should have to go through. I guess in his own way your father does care. But he has some problem with showing it. I hope that you will try to be a good friend to yourself. I know that sounds trite. But it's hard to do. I think you're a really cool person who had to grow up too fast. I wish for you to have kindness in your heart for yourself, always.
Peace.
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