Recently I’ve received a letter from a young man, who had an abusive father and a toxic mother. He wanted to share his story with me. He agreed that I can publish one of his letters (cutting away any personal info). It is a troubling, sad story however I am happy that he is finding strength in going his own way. Let’s all wish him luck.
Thank you for doing this, and I hope my story can be beneficial for others. I apologize for any mistakes as English is not my first language. You asked for me to describe “how it was to grow up without a father”. I was thinking deeply about it. Let me try to put it like this: not having a normal father in my life was something that affects me up to this day.
He was an alcoholic. The type that comes back at night and shouts, destroy things or is abusive. It was horrible to be raised mostly by my mother, and it many ways it still is.
After 22 years of my life, when I have moved out of the house occupied by my mother (as she divorced him few years before that) far away, my father committed suicide. This was not the end.
I was having regular nightmares with me fighting and trying to kill him that are still going on for many, many years.
Childhood has been lost. Completely ruined young adulthood (I have turned to drugs because all of this) and also very tough adulthood as I am not capable of enjoying life as the rest of the “normal” population. Also, I do not have father and it is not easy to hear stories how others can “go with their dad for a beer” (irony!) movie or just talk to him, or ask for advise.
Everything that my father teach me was only that I should be constantly in fear… and other bad things. I cannot think of something positive, really. Still, in some way I was loving him as of course *he* was my father.
I was in fear of staying at home as he was always coming drunk late and argue with my mother or tried to smash a few things in our home (like mirrors, glasses, etc.) turned music loud etc. I was not able to sleep properly. I still can’t. While other children at school were happy because of a coming up dress-party I was sad, as to get there we had to call police to get into our home as he barricaded himself there and I was not able to dress up. This was during early years of my primary school.
I remember when my mother asked me to run to her parents flat and ask for help as he was holding a knife on her throat. This was during winter, and I do not remember my way going there, only when I have reached my grandparents house. Other memory is when he was threatening to kill us all and turned on gas in the kitchen. I remember I was asking God for help and that I was saying goodbye to life in my mind. I was 7 or 8 years old. He was drunk usually once every 2 weeks, and I mean 2-3 days of being drunk. Sometimes it was more often than that and more intense. He devastated a few cars when being drunk. He was accusing my mother of having a romance with someone else, which is a typical syndrome of alcohol withdrawal.
And this was going on and on, it was a “normal” way of living for me. We were not able to have any friends as my father did not like anyone to come to our home. I don’t like to be treated like I was different, I don’t want to be perceived as a “victim”, however maybe I should because I was and I still am a real victim.
At the end his parents died, my mother was forced to ask for a divorce. We were still living with him under one roof. Case in the court took almost three fucking years (pure nightmare). We mounted anti-robbery doors in our home to prevent him for stealing everything that we’ve had left. He broke over there a few times, anyway. Stole things from my mother parents house. He even took some things that were mine and stole money from my friend’s jacket when he visited me one day. The word “shame” could not measure up to how I felt that day.
After the divorce he got his car and a flat (after his parents) with a garage outside – and we got our old home. He was stalking my mother when she was going to or from her job, threatening her or ringing the bell to our home for like 5 hours nonstop. Police could not help (I was living in a stupid country then). He spend all of his money, lost his job, lost everything. This was a downfall. I’ve decided to leave all of this and emigrate somewhere else.
In the meantime my mother got 2 cancers (treated so far with a success) – probably due to this. He hanged himself after living around 1 year on the streets asking for food and shelter. One year of his tremendous suffering does not equal to my whole life ruined because of his addiction. Yes, I am aware he was ill but he never really wanted to quit. You see, I’ve gone through all possible scenarios – placing guilt on my mother (she was toxic in other ways which I would not describe here), or on him. Even on myself.
That we were not able to help him, or that my mother was not good for him etc. But it’s all an endless loop, without any exit. Blaming or knowing that they are responsible does not change anything for me. I am still living in a different country but I still have those nightmares. As he hanged himself I did not get a chance to get back to my country, meet him and hit him in the face as a payback for all that he has done to me. Even if that would be only a way to try to help him recover. He did not give that chance, but maybe this is better.
Effects of having that kind of “parent” today? I do not want to have children, do not find satisfaction in many common social activities, I feel burned-out, deep deep down inside and nothing will ever heal it. I am aware of that. Also, I’ve put myself to a few toxic relationships as I was struggling for physical and emotional contact/closeness, (I do not mean sex here, just normal tenderness) yet I did not have any proper education/being raised by my parents. I am in some twisted way addicted to sex, or rather to masturbation as I have found this way of ‘escaping’ fear and nervous tension when I was young. I tend to have severe panic attacks, neurosis, social phobias and I am basically afraid of people, their presence and looking into their eyes. Even on street etc.
I feel that underneath I some way hate other people/our modern so-called society which allowed for that kind of aberration, as they can have normal lives and I’ve never got a chance. Don’t know what to say more. I need to add that my mother was (and still is) toxic, too. She didn’t teach me how to be a strong, independent male of course. The very absence of a normal father figure made me weak and beta. As for now, I need to cut off my mother presence in my life completely in order to feel okay. Every time I speak with her, it “triggers” me and I am suffering from a depression for 2-3 weeks. Every single time!
Maybe in some strange way everything that I’ve experienced made me see through the veil and discover true meaning of relationships, that there is no love as such and that MGTOW is the only normal way? Maybe without this I’d be going into another “normal” relationship as a pussy-beggar, or a mangina?
My advice for the rest of you – if you can’t have a normal, strong father – get out, move out of your home and run away from them. I need to say that way of MGTOW is helping me to recover.
I believe I will be able to live free life someday.
Thanks for reading. Derek.”
Thank you too, Derek for sharing this with me and our readers- and I really know that by working hard on yourself you can reclaim your life and build up your strength as a male which will allow you to discover inner peace for good. From the bottom of my heart- I wish you all the best! And on the side note, I think that your father was weak and never deserved to have you as his child. Screw him. 😉
By the way, if any of you have got any kind of stories you would like to be published on RMH, don’t hesitate and send me a PM (or through email firstname.lastname@example.org). You can remain anonymous. Every story is useful for MGTOW community. Our place is safe. We understand.