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Does anyone else have Dad Issues?

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  • #16
    My parents are bad, but not as bad as other people sound. They had a really hard time getting rid of stuff when they downsized houses, but I think it was more about economy than sentimentality. They hang onto everything "just in case' they need it for something. We always had a "screw jar" growing up. It was a large mason jar literally packed with assorted screws from all kinds of things, just in case we needed one.

    My basement is half full of their junk, but they're slowly removing stuff.
    "...but when she goes off you, she will not just walk away, she will walk away with your fucking skin in a jar." ~~ DoctorRandomercam
    "The laws of man, they don't apply when blood gets in a woman's eye" - The Black Keys


    • #17
      Each of you guys described a different component of it.
      Some people say it begins during wartime. Children are raised to "DON'T THROW THAT AWAY!! We might need that!" And then that message gets passed on to the next generation.

      But there is absolutely a sentimentality aspect too. That's the part where I'm most guilty. I feel like the times we're living in are absolutely HORRIBLE and I treasure anything that reminds me of how things were 30 years ago.

      I think my mom is like that, too. Stuck in the 50s and 60s. My dad often told me, "She was a normal person until she had YOU!" But I think it was probably just depression like I have. Those kinds of mental illnesses just happen to kick in in your 20s. She refuses to admit she has any problems and my dad won't force her to go to the doctor.

      Christmas can be very hard when we think back to better times and to people that we used to celebrate the holiday with that are long gone. I hope you guys have a great holiday and I will do as much as I can to enjoy mine.


      • #18
        My dad was a Jekyl-Hyde type. When my mother was alive he could be decent, but sometimes physically and emotionally abusive, so much so that all of us siblings looked forward to his going on field trips just to feel safe and fear free. After she died I was baggage and the bad extremes got worse. I could never figure him out as I was the forgotten middle child who tried to do everything he required and not make trouble. He was forced by economic changes to shut down his business and move into something else which took him about a decade to figure out. Looking back now I know all his bad behavior arose from his professional/economic setbacks. He grew up with a fair amount of trauma, although I don't think near as bad as he dished out. His dad was 18 and his mother 14, marrying post WWI, and that didn't help at all as neither came from stable family relations and were way too young even then to be married. My dad wanted a big family while my mother wanted to sing professional opera. She never wanted a lot of kids and knew she wasn't equipped emotionally or physically to manage 9 kids. Dad wanted a dozen, and with the 9th they were told no more by the gyno. But he pushed anyway and mother gave in, but then turned around and announced she was not going to live through the delivery. It turned out to be an unusual form of assisted suicide, and the doctor didn't keep his promise about handling the delivery, so she bled to death. She knew it would happen and embraced the consequences to finally be free of his tyranny. Knowing her expected demise ahead of time was incredible to all of us and devastating when it happened.

        My dad was raised with the idea that kids were to be seen and not heard. It was an enigma I was never able to resolve, wanting so many kids, but then running from them, deliberately avoiding interaction whenever he felt inadequate to role modeling. I left home a month before my 18th birthday, at the peak of Nam and he wasn't the least concerned that I might end up over there. As it turned out I was classified 4F, but over the next 20 years we hardly had any interaction. He was always a stranger to me. When I was 29-30 yoa I decided to write to him and told him I wanted to get to know who he was. It was very unsettling to have him confess he didn't himself at age 63. The project was very sporadic, and one day a few years later I learned he was in a brain cancer induced coma. He briefly came out of it when all the family converged on his death bed, spoke to my kids briefly and went back under. Two months later he was dead. I never got any of my issues resolved. No explanations for why he treated me the way he did. It left a vacuum in my life for a lot of years. The irony is at the funeral my oldest sibling insisted I eulogize him as none of the others would do it. I was the one who'd had the least exposure to him and hardly ever asked him for money or clothes or other common things kids need to feel wanted.

        Now that I am almost the same age as he when he died I'm starting to put together his life from his memoirs, letters, photographs, and other family histories. I guess I am fortunate to have that, for I at least have been able to come to terms with the kind of man and father he was. As a man my life has been very stunted because of his failure to parent effectively. And yet, when I evaluate the things he tried to teach me on the job, the opportunities he gave me when he wasn't a rageaholic, I've found that most kids were never so blessed. He was a terrible teacher, an inadequate role model, I hardly knew him and I quit loving him when I was about five. I didn't lose my fear of him until adulthood. I inherited his antics from his role modeling that always came out through provocation from my first wife. It nearly got me thrown in prison for life, but I was determined not to let the bitch ruin it. The 2nd marriage has had its rocky times, but in general she has not brought out of me the rage, and helped me replace the inappropriate responses with more effective ones I had wanted to incorporate from childhood.

        What made it possible for me to adjust to his passing, and come to terms with his ineptitude, oddly came from my seeking out professional counseling (which was largely a disaster and not generally recommended) to deal with my borderline, controlling wife. I discovered that some things in life you just have to let go of, though the loss is excruciating. We live too much in the past, and that robs us of the vitality for making the present an improvement and the future a brighter prospect. He's been in a worse place for 33 years since his passing, while I have been able to resolve the issues slowly and painfully, until I now have only one question to ask, should I see him again.

        Your family sounds like it is very much stuck in the past, and their unwillingness to let go, to be free of the shit that captivates them, to move forward out of the prison of their own making, really is a grieving to be engaged in reluctantly, but necessary. All I can say is moving on will only be as hard as you make it for yourself. Maybe that's the angle you may have to pursue with your dad, if he hasn't altogether given up. There's an old saying about mothers and fathers; mothers devour their daughters, but fathers compete with their sons. I can't imagine him not wanting his son to be a better man than he, so show him, and just maybe he'll find his peace.
        Exiting Wally’s World one day I spied a spiffy Harley, just being stood by a tall, full broad. I remarked to my blond bone: Nice Hawg. Whereupon she asked: Which, the woman or the bike?

        “Good Friends are like Diamonds, while False Friends are like Autumn Leaves found every where.” --Unknown

        I once tried to read to my bride from one of the wonderful books in my library. She feel asleep inside of five minutes. But if I snort in my sleep, she is awake like the owl. Then I learned from Ms. Vilar that "...woman does not read the wonderful books with which he has filled his libraries." Then I found not many men do either.


        • #19
          Originally posted by Phobos View Post
          It's really embarrassing and complicated. My mom's side of the family are hoarders, and my mom is the worst of them all. It's as bad as the ones you see on TV. My dad is just a passive-aggressive asshole that spent his whole life walking away from problems instead of confronting them and solving them. So she trashed their house and he allowed it. It's packed head to toe with various stuff. Repairmen aren't allowed in, so it's completely fallen to hell. The plumbing no longer works. There are "soft spots" on the floor that you can fall through if you're not careful.
          My mother was a hoarder too. Her thing was clothes and photos. My dad collected news papers and recipes. When my mom passed away a few years ago my dad moped around for about 3 months before he took off to meet some woman he'd met on the internet. I've seen him maybe a half dozen times since then. This left me and my brothers to deal with the house and their collective hoard. We rented a dumpster for two weeks and we tackled 1 room a day. We didn't necessarily do it together, just when we had spare time. Eventually we got through everything. Garbage was disposed of, things were handed out, and tons of stuff was donated (probably literally, I know I donated approximately 1,100 lbs). But the house was still in my dad's name so there was nothing we could do with it so it just sat there. A year later one of my brothers (I have 3) got divorced. He's made arrangements with my father to live there for free (sort of), so long as he pays the electric and keeps the place tidy. Now another one of my brothers is getting separated from his wife (again) and will probably get a divorce. Guess where he's staying?

          Point being, no mess is totally unmanageable. It just takes effort, maybe even a lot of it. But, who knows, could be worth it.
          Last edited by JamesNunya; 12-30-2018, 10:15 AM.


          • #20
            I know a few young french ladies who have daddy issues. Heh heh.
            Stay single and prosper!


            • #21
              I never had dad issues because mine died while I was adolescent. However I did not aspire to his meek subservient gynocentric breadwinner role in life.
              Blaming him for ypur own faults however is counter productive... he might blame his dad and so on ... all teh way back to primordial plankton floating in the primordial seas.
              From what U say about the situation now, I would just tell him that if he's so hard done by and hates having a family he should just f#ck off already.
              Note however, I've tried to communicate to my son that I don't actually owe him anything now that he is an adult and that he shouldn't demand it or take it for granted especially since he won't even acknowledge me in public.
              Admittedly I understand he's ashamed of having a trans dad and/or afraid of being targeted by hate groups.
              Sadly if that's what destroyed the relationship so be it, I won't be going back and there are limits to what I'm still prepared to give.
              ~~~ PEr aRDUa ad asTrA ~~~
              (through adversity to the stars)


              • #22
                Thanks all. I've been busy with the holidays. They really sucked. I actually got along with my dad OK during X-Mas. But I hadn't been to their house in quite a while and was quite overwhelmed with how much worse the hoarding had gotten. There wasn't enough "unhoarded" chairs for the entire family to sit on anymore! So I cleared off this broken old recliner to sit on and my my mom completely freaked out on me. "That's your grandfather's old chair!!! YOU'RE BREAKING IT!!" (It's already broken.) "WELL, I WAS GOING TO FIX THAT!!!!"

                And she was _completely_ freaking out and crying.

                I have relied on my family too much for emotional support. I hit that age a while ago where my friends all got married and had no time for me anymore. So my family was all I had. But their lives are so sad and depressing they really drag me down.


                • #23
                  Originally posted by Phobos View Post
                  I have relied on my family too much for emotional support. I hit that age a while ago where my friends all got married and had no time for me anymore. So my family was all I had. But their lives are so sad and depressing they really drag me down.
                  I have that problem with my friends from college. They all have 2 kids now, and it's almost impossible to pull them away. They're too busy to schedule a time for me to drop by, and I'd stay in touch by dropping in unannounced, but it feels rude to drop in without making sure that they're okay with it for their wife and kids or don't have other plans first. it should be so simple. I can just drop in, do whatever they're doing with them and then leave when they need me too, but I think they feel the need to block time to "entertain" and can't.

                  Don't know. It is rather lonely though.
                  "...but when she goes off you, she will not just walk away, she will walk away with your fucking skin in a jar." ~~ DoctorRandomercam
                  "The laws of man, they don't apply when blood gets in a woman's eye" - The Black Keys