Some Days

Some days, everyday feels like a fight. Usually, I have had a trigger when it gets this way that goes like a snowball. One thought and my mind is off for days until it gets to a place where it can rest, or perhaps, I simply have too much and it gets too big and I can’t carry it on.


A couple of weeks ago, I got stuck in the snow on the way to University. Every day, I have to drive through the area I grew up in; so many places, so many memories. Some good and some bad.

While driving a road that normally takes less than five minutes, and took me almost forty-five through the snow, my mind wandered. I spotted the fish and chip shop my Nan would take me to when my parents had left me. I saw the shop owned by my Nan’s friends. She would drive me insane as she chatted about all the boring things adults say, while I, a seven year old, just wished she’d say goodbye. I got to the main part of the road where my Nan used to walk along each day, and that was when my mind got stuck.

She’s been gone almost thirteen years now, but I remember her face, the way she walked, her voice. I can hear it perfectly in my mind, and on that day, it was almost like being able to see her walk along that same road as she had done when she was alive.

I reminded myself that she was gone, but of course, that led me on to remembering when she died. I was twenty-four.

She had collapsed in her house, but luckily, she was by the telephone and called for help. She had a blood clot in her lungs and was taken to hospital. My dad called me up to tell me and inform me that she was probably going to die. Of course, I didn’t waste time in going to see her.

Every day, he would call me to say, your Nan is sick, maybe she will die today and she will be by herself, and each time, I would panic and get there as fast as I could. By Friday, she had been there for five days. I went to the hospital and my father was there with my brother.  I didn’t want to stay with him and have to listen to what he would say after, about her. I don’t know why I gave her a hug and a kiss. I hadn’t done that in a very long time, but I had just wanted to.

The next morning, was the same scenario. A call from my dad to tell me my Nan was going to die alone.  I was going to see her anyway. I was going early because my partner and I had a young baby and we were house hunting.

I knew the moment I walked onto the ward that she was gone. I felt it; like emptiness. The nurse caught me before I got to her bed and ushered me into a side room. I didn’t want to hear the words. My dad sat there with his fake tears and fake grief, getting all the attention and pretending that she had been like a mother to him. He had loved her and  spoke whatever lies he could think of. The kind nurse asked him if he would like to see her and say goodbye. He said yes please, through his sobs and asked me if I was coming. He sent my brother out for a walk, so he didn’t have to deal with it.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see her. My last memory had been me saying goodbye and that was enough, right? He stood at the door to her room. I stood to the side and couldn’t see her. He started to cry again at the sight of her and told me she looked like she was sleeping and smiling.

I agreed to go in, but she didn’t look like he said. She looked dead. Her cheeks had sunk, she was pale, and cruelly, she was still warm as my father carried on his performance of the grieving son in law.

He took her personal possessions from the nursing staff, including her purse, which he emptied and spent the money on my brother. I went home and kept my grief inside because he stole it from me.

The biggest part of this memory is that I remember thinking, what if now she can see the truth. What if she knows what I had done with my father all these years? Now, she would hate me. Now, she would know I am a monster. She would know that everything about me was a lie and that I was some sick human that engaged in sexual contact with my parents.

I realised that this is when I buried everything and I became sick within my mind. This is when my OCD really began to peak because it needed an outlet.

This week has been like opening something I didn’t know I had sealed, and feeling it.

10 thoughts on “Some Days

  1. Perhaps, if she does see what went on, she might hate herself, or feel regret that she didn’t see it while she lived and didn’t do something to help give you the life you so greatly deserved. Not that she did anything wrong, but hindsight is always 20/20 and when you see things you didnt see, one can only wish that they did. How many times in the world do I see something and wish I had a time machine so I could go back and change it. She rests in peace with death, you must find your own peace with life.

  2. Your nan sounds like she was a wonderful person & loving and kind to you. I think she would surely despise your father instead. She probably realizes now that he was a complete and utter liar and demented inside. I’m sure you loves you even more now than she did when you were with her while she was living on this earth.

  3. If your Nan could see what really went on, the only thing certain is that she would see it with much greater clarity than you did then; than you do even now. The only monster she would see was your father. If she didn’t already know that he was one.

    I’m sorry you lost such a lovely person from your life, but I’m glad she was a part of it for as long as she was.

  4. Your story is a very familiar one to me. My Grandfather sexually molested me all my life and I always thought of what my family who past might think. This is normal for us who have been through this type of thing. We have to keep fighting what we think other people think and know what is right deep down. You know your not a monster, and you should know that although wicked things happened in your life and it may have been sinful nature, God is still going to love you no mater what. I love you for just sharing this… it takes courage to post something like this. From the bottom of my heart, Thank you.

    • Thank you to you too, for reading and taking the time to reply, I get so many people that do reply and I can never show I grateful I am to you and them for the support, but here also the knowledge that I am not the only one

  5. Hi JD! I am sorry to hear about the passing of your Nan, even though that was a while ago. I am also sorry that you are having another tough week! I know that it sucks having to re-feel the sad situation, but maybe now that you opened up and were able to realize that this was a turning point in your OCD maybe you will be able to control your OCD more. I am sure that your Nan would not think poorly of you at all! You were just doing what you were told to do! I have read all of your books and to me it appears that your parents weren’t the nicest to your Nan either, she seems to of been another victim of your parents. JD I don’t know you personally but as an “Internet acquaintance” I want you to know that I am sorry that you have had a rough childhood that affects your adult life so negatively! I truly admire your strength and you encourage me to get involved and do whatever I can to prevent and bring awareness to child abuse. Thank you! May peace be with you someday soon!

  6. True, some days are more difficult than others. In fact, most of your days aren’t so good in one way or another, are they?

    With the exception of ” him,” I can think of no one who knows your story, who would blame you for having the feelings that you do. Nans was the center of your life. Your ONLY safe haven, if you will – besides your imagination and Mr. Ted.

    That being said, I also can think of no one who sees you the way you see yourself. Though I guess none of us can escape that. 😦 How very sad it is, that the resulting view of yourself and so many (too many) others, who have endured abuse, is considered to be, ” normal.”

    I believe and have often said to you, that she is watching. (Remember her perfume?) You also know that I believe she knows all that has happened, and all that is coming. I am sure she is heartbroken by what happened to you… beside herself even. I am sure if she could, she would hold you close and tell you what we all say to you… and so much more.
    And I am absolutely sure that she is proud of you, and of how far you have come…in your healing. In your making visible a subject that must be brought out into the open if it is EVER going to be fixed. In your part in making people (friends and strangers alike) know they are not alone. And most of all, of how you have changed your life for the better… not to mention how that has impacted your children’s and grandchild’s lives.

    James, she saw the good in you, because it was, and still is, there.
    We here, on this screen, we, in your circle of friends … we see it as well. Don’t ever think that isn’t true.

    You are loved. Genuinely. Fully. Unconditionally. And endlessly.

    Time to repeat myself again… I am proud to call you my friend. I am grateful to have you in my life. And yes I do, and always will, love you so. 🙂

    Because you are just that… you.
    And you are amazing.

    ~ Hugs ~

  7. You are so much stronger than you realize. Losing a grandparent is a painful process, or it was for me. Your grandmother’s feelings for you didn’t change when she died, and I am sure she knew your dad was a fake all a long and knew more than you thought she did. We love you because of you, so did your grandmother. Wish we could take away your pain and uncertainty and help you understand that you have worth as a child as a man and a friend..

  8. i just got done reading your books they were very good. i cryed with you but what happen to your mom and dad are they in jail or did they get away with?:(

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