Art_dude
November 1st, 2009, 02:50 PM
I'm pretty sure this doesn't qualify as a mental crisis, but it has been very upsetting, so mods, feel free to move me to the right forum. My apologies! I also apologize for the length of this in advance.
So here's the thing - I don't love my dad. I know what you're thinking at this point, "Oh god, here comes the freudian sob-fest" but I need to write this out to make sense of it and hopefully others feeling similarly will benefit from a shared story.
I love my mother and sister sooo much. Even though at times, it takes a little digging to find that love, it is indeed there. But after a particular incident today with my father, I came to the shocking realization that I don't in fact love him. I dislike him for many reasons (but I don't hate him) But I figured today I would find some type of "deep down compassion/love" but I found nothing but pain and resentment. I'm not looking for a pity party, just sharing that. Sure surprised me.
Before I tell you about what triggered this revelation today, let me give you some background knowledge first. I'll try to keep it short. Ever since I was kid, I was raised by my mother. My father is a work-a-holic and has never been in the picture of my life. I used to feel that this was an explanation for my resentment towards him, and many of my problems but I realized that I'm glad he wasn't involved early on because I don't agree on a fundamental level with anything with him. I'm a super liberal yoga buddhist, tree hugging art freak, and he is a billOreilly worshiping conservative anti gay republican. Not exactly a great match. On my 16th birthday he yelled and called me a faggot in front of my best friend. I think you get the drift.
Anyway, today I was at a yoga seminar based on cleaning out your Chakras. Chakras are metaphorical energy fields in your body that carry emotional and physical baggage from your life. My great teacher and mentor taught the 2 hour class. My dad was supposed to pick me up at 1:30 but because these things always run over time a little I ended getting out at 1:50 (I don't consider 20 minutes all that bad) Nevertheless, the class was extremely insightful and heart wrenchingly emotional as I reconnected with past trauma, bullying, and of course memories of my father's disapproval and yelling. At the end of the class I felt tired but liberated, and realized that I forgave him. And that my forgiveness wasn't an altruistic thing I was doing for him, but I was forgiving him for ME. I realized that forgiving him would free ME up from the toxicity that was holding me back from internal peace.
All of that came to a crashing halt when I found him waiting outside for me. I followed him down to the elevator and as we took it down he started going batshit crazy at me. "Where the hell were you?!! I have something I have to be at and you were late!" Just recovering from my mental trance I tried to keep my calm. "You are so inconsiderate of me. Why didn't you call me? i had golf plans and now I'm late because of you" I calmly told him, "there isn't a clock in the studio, and I can't walk out of the class in the middle of it. It only ran over twenty minutes. I had no control over that and you know it. I realize you're upset that you're late and I'm sorry for that, but please don't yell at me". I was pretty proud of myself. When I got home (after a car ride of silence) He dropped me off and said "see ya" I responded,
"namaste" :)
It's very enthralling realizing that I'm free of this baggage now, but I still feel somewhat odd that I don't feel any "love" impulse. It's great I've found peace now, and that I forgive him, but I'd like to know your thoughts on this.
So here's the thing - I don't love my dad. I know what you're thinking at this point, "Oh god, here comes the freudian sob-fest" but I need to write this out to make sense of it and hopefully others feeling similarly will benefit from a shared story.
I love my mother and sister sooo much. Even though at times, it takes a little digging to find that love, it is indeed there. But after a particular incident today with my father, I came to the shocking realization that I don't in fact love him. I dislike him for many reasons (but I don't hate him) But I figured today I would find some type of "deep down compassion/love" but I found nothing but pain and resentment. I'm not looking for a pity party, just sharing that. Sure surprised me.
Before I tell you about what triggered this revelation today, let me give you some background knowledge first. I'll try to keep it short. Ever since I was kid, I was raised by my mother. My father is a work-a-holic and has never been in the picture of my life. I used to feel that this was an explanation for my resentment towards him, and many of my problems but I realized that I'm glad he wasn't involved early on because I don't agree on a fundamental level with anything with him. I'm a super liberal yoga buddhist, tree hugging art freak, and he is a billOreilly worshiping conservative anti gay republican. Not exactly a great match. On my 16th birthday he yelled and called me a faggot in front of my best friend. I think you get the drift.
Anyway, today I was at a yoga seminar based on cleaning out your Chakras. Chakras are metaphorical energy fields in your body that carry emotional and physical baggage from your life. My great teacher and mentor taught the 2 hour class. My dad was supposed to pick me up at 1:30 but because these things always run over time a little I ended getting out at 1:50 (I don't consider 20 minutes all that bad) Nevertheless, the class was extremely insightful and heart wrenchingly emotional as I reconnected with past trauma, bullying, and of course memories of my father's disapproval and yelling. At the end of the class I felt tired but liberated, and realized that I forgave him. And that my forgiveness wasn't an altruistic thing I was doing for him, but I was forgiving him for ME. I realized that forgiving him would free ME up from the toxicity that was holding me back from internal peace.
All of that came to a crashing halt when I found him waiting outside for me. I followed him down to the elevator and as we took it down he started going batshit crazy at me. "Where the hell were you?!! I have something I have to be at and you were late!" Just recovering from my mental trance I tried to keep my calm. "You are so inconsiderate of me. Why didn't you call me? i had golf plans and now I'm late because of you" I calmly told him, "there isn't a clock in the studio, and I can't walk out of the class in the middle of it. It only ran over twenty minutes. I had no control over that and you know it. I realize you're upset that you're late and I'm sorry for that, but please don't yell at me". I was pretty proud of myself. When I got home (after a car ride of silence) He dropped me off and said "see ya" I responded,
"namaste" :)
It's very enthralling realizing that I'm free of this baggage now, but I still feel somewhat odd that I don't feel any "love" impulse. It's great I've found peace now, and that I forgive him, but I'd like to know your thoughts on this.