Why I Didn't Tell You About The Medium//A Letter to my Father
There's a distinct memory I have of asking my dad a question and him not responding... I had finally HAD IT. I smacked my hands in front of his face yelling "IS ANYONE THERE?!"...I thought all fathers who were cops were absent. Incapable of holding a conversation, absently staring at the wall. A little empty inside from the trauma of their career. Unable to connect or have a positive relationship with their children. I'm just now understanding as an adult that none of it was normal. Nothing about my father is normal.
And so the truth comes out.
My life has done a COMPLETE 180 since seeing Travis Hill, a medium and clairvoyant in Salt Lake City. My entire life and how I had seen it has been altered. My family has fallen apart and since then we are rebuilding.
After our reading with Travis in November I did not fully believe everything he had said about everything, but mostly my dad. It was too specific, full of information I didn't understand. But in the past 8 months everything has changed. Changed isn't descriptive enough.. it has unraveled.
Dark truths hidden deeply within our family rose to the surface, forced into the light of day by the intuitions of a perfect stranger. The effects of my subconscious from past trauma are now being realized, the locked up parts of my memories waiting to be found. My own body protecting me from itself in fear that recollection will surely destroy me... Every last bit of that reading has come to pass. He was right, I didn't want him to be right...
Here are a couple of journal entries from after the initial reading in November:
"A journal :When it all falls apart
Have you ever felt your spirit separate from your body? Like your mind has to tell your body to move because it is so numb.That is me right now. Confused if I’m dreaming, or if life is truly capable of being this dark and twisted.
Fear for my mom.
Fear for my feigned memories of my father.
Shame in believing what I’ve been told.
Fear that it may be true.
Confused that I don’t know which one it is.
This only happens on tv, people can’t be capable of creating such falsehoods for an entire lifetime. What is life and why must we be given such obstacles? Are the lessons we “learn” through such heinous crimes worth it? Does the knowledge we gain outweigh the pain we endure? Is this endurable? Is there a way to ever find peace and happiness in this lifetime knowing that my dad is going to die a lonely, tortured, sickened soul? What happened to him to create this monster? How can it be possible to sleep each night knowing your entire life is a lie? What about the conversations we’ve had and the memories we’ve made as a family. Is it all a lie? Was he never present? Was every emotion he ever (rarely) showed a lie?
My life feels like a joke. Confused as to what’s real and what’s not. Inside feels heavy as if a weight is on my chest. But if I were to relieve that weight, the emotions would be uncontrollable. So I lock it in tight and won’t let it out. Too many things to do. So much work to do, so much progress to make. But is there still? Can I still progress? Will I be ok? Or will this terrible thing eat away at me and I’ll end up like my father. Alone, lost, and damaged. The only thing I know I can do right now is go to bed, wake up, and go about my day as before. But even the thought of getting out of bed sounds like wishful thinking.
I didn’t know what confusion truly felt like until now. The twisting sensation in my stomach, my mouth slightly watering with nausea. I hear there are three sides to every story. Each of there’s...and then the truth. But how do we find out the truth? Where is the proof? I’m afraid this unsettling feeling of impending doom will not go away until there is concrete evidence to the accusations. Why must I feel so sad for my dad? Why does it crush me thinking he has absolutely nothing, when he has taken everything from my mom...and potentially me. Why is it that I feel so sad for him? I can’t process any of this information about him. I can’t possibly throw out 26 years of how I have viewed my dad in just a few days. My world has been shook, and my mind has not yet settled. There is a path forward I just haven’t even made it onto the path yet. I guess I should stop thinking about the finish line when I haven’t even started the race.
How do I get there? Shame for believing that the accusations are true. I’m weighed down with guilt not believing my dad. And am lost, not knowing how to begin the road to recovery. But silly me. My mom is the victim here. She keeps her feelings bottled tight, thinking she has to lead us to a better future. It’s ok mom, it’s ok to be weak right now. But, once one of us breaks, we know the other will too. We fear that there are even deeper feelings of sadness we haven’t allowed ourselves to feel yet. They will surface eventually. We tighten our armor, hoping we can fight the inevitable. But it will happen. Should we let it out sooner? Rather than let these dark feelings eat away at our sanity? We probably should, but we probably won’t. We don’t want to be weak. We won’t accept being broken.
Like how a robe wraps around the body is how I feel something has wrapped itself around me. Helping me to stand up, walk, talk when spoken to. It’s holding in tight my feelings and filling me with peace. It’s on odd feeling being completely devastated and at peace at the same time. I almost feel guilty for not wallowing in my bed all day every day. It feels selfish to go to work and complete my duties. I should be helping my mom, I should be by her side through all of this. I wish I could lay in bed and fall asleep for the next several months, avoiding all feelings and dreaming of better days. But I can’t. I have bills to pay. And how selfish it would be for me to fall apart while my mom keeps it together. She doesn’t need anyone to take care of right now, we all need to be taking care of her.
Today was ok. If I keep myself busy then there isn’t time to think or feel my feelings. My feelings switch so quickly. One moment I can drown out the emptiness by laughing with friends and being silly in the car. The next when there’s a moment of silence I’m sucked into the emptiness that is inside of me. I feel crazy. Being able to find moments of happiness in the midst of all of this.
When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. But the peace inside of me flows still. I know it’s the right thing to take my mom to my sisters in California. She’s not safe here, emotionally or physically..."
A narcissist. A liar. A cheater. A complete fake. Disgusting. My dad. Mark.
Not a "worthy" member of The Church of Latter Day Saints, a wolf hiding in sheeps clothing. Not a brave policeman, but a man with many identities, thirsty for control.
Not a caring father, but an oppressive, insecure man threatened by bold, strong, independent thinking women.
That's you Mark. Welcome to reality, although yours is severely altered. Your mind so shattered into your different personalities that you have no idea who you are, what you have done, and you do not care to find the truth. You protect yourself from self hatred with your stupid lies. With your fake support from shitty people with the fake truth.
So much has come out recently, so many more truths. So much more damage. j
Here I am today:
"Sometimes the heaviness of it all weighs down on my chest so forcefully that I can’t breathe. The darkness sweeping over me like a fog, making it hard to see... Come on now, one foot in front of the other... No, I think I’ll shut my eyes and take a nap instead. Escape for just a moment into an easier reality...
Everything as I knew it has shattered. I’m picking up the pieces trying to make sense of them, but I realize they won’t ever make sense. Time to sweep away the old pieces and start new. A new life, a new journey, a new me. Built a little stronger, a little braver, a little more free than before.
A little? Maybe more like a lot. A lot stronger. A lot more brave. I am a free spirit. I am a warrior.
It’s safer now. There is a long journey ahead to be completely free of his damage, but I now see the light. We are free to escape the oppression of a toxic, ignorant man. Cutting down the chains of judgment, shame, guilt, and fear instilled in me since birth is more difficult than I had imagined, but it’s possible.
It’s ok to be me, I’m not bad. I’m not a bad person for the choices I make or the human I want to be. It’s ok, it’s really ok. In fact, it’s pretty fucking amazing. I’m free to be whatever I want to be. And I’m excited for the journey ahead. Without you, Mark.
I would say Rest in Peace, but there is no peace in your soul. But, some day I hope I can reach a point of healing that allows me to hope that you can find peace and healing. Right now my feelings....aren't as kind. But, I can't let you have anymore of my energy. I am releasing any of the holds you have on my mind, my mental health, my energy.
Hello freedom, peace of mind, a fresh beginning.
I fully welcome my future.