In all the years in Child Protection and Residential Social Work I saw so many children standing by the worst parents imaginable. Many who were either directly abusive, enablers or chose the abusers over their own kids.
I tried to be the best dad I could be. I have always protected, loved and cared for my kids. I was not a perfect parent, but who is.
I had years of parental alienation from their mother who is a skilled liar and has no compassion nor empathy.
Every time she speaks to me she calls me mental, broken, and damaged. Maybe I am, I certainly hurt because of the self loathing I have for me.
Both of my children believe her ongoing lies and cannot recognise any of her faults. They do not believed she ever failed them, but see me as useless and pathetic.
My parents and some of those who were supposed friends at the time of us splitting up enabled her, not actually accepting the truth and not listening to me.
Now my parents have gone a stage further, so any relationship I did have at least with my daughter is now gone.
My son believes me to be a discriminatory bigot who would judge him for his life path. Hopefully there is nothing further from the truth.
Even writing this makes me feel inadequate and beyond a failiure.
Since my brother died, or even before, my mother has chose to vilify me to everyone that will listen.
She does not accept that anything she did with Rob was inherently wrong. No responsibility.
I did not cause my brothers death, I fought every day to keep him here. I went away the weekend he died. I recieved a call when I was returning, but I was still in Chester, 2 hours away, from my mother telling me how ill he was. I told her to ring police and ambulance. She refused. I called them whilst driving back. A few minutes after I arrived the armed police did. I couldn’t get in but they broke his door in.
Sadly it was too late for robert and he died in Chesterfield Royal Hospital.
Robert was 18 years younger than me and as much of a son as my son is.
The guilt I feel for being away that weekend still eats away at me. I will never forgive myself. But my mother accepts nothing.
Since then she has fuelled the animosity that built up between my kids and me.
She gave one sided accounts to my sister and extended family.
Even after all that I continued to live close by, giving her and my dad all the support I could.
Now I have no family. It is truly as if I am dead to all. When the do have any contact it is scorn.
My PTSD has been fed by the guilt that overwhelms me.
Now I feel empty inside on my better days, on my worst each breath is a disappointment.
I am angry, but not with others, all with me.
I do have people that support and care for me. Sometimes though I even turn them away.
This is my existence now.
Jonesy, simply a human 