I hope you find this time restorative, Joy. I know how hard it can't be to go 'no contact.' My sister wrote the poem below on Father's Day this year. I thought I'd share it with you (and whomever reads it):
No contact
For my final act—
I’ll choose no contact.
You’ll never hear another word from me.
On this Father’s Day, you can have dinner with silence.
Eat your own words, sit with your violence
And pretend you don’t deserve this.
When you have nobody—not a single person left—
Will you finally blame yourself?
Have you prayed enough to God for answers
As to why you’re alone, why nobody is coming to help?
Did you ever think for a second that this—“no contact”—IS the answer to your prayers?
Or is there so much to sift through, a lifetime isn’t enough to peel back all the layers
To reveal the truth.
Maybe one day you’ll discover the truth.
Or you can feel sorry for yourself,
Live in a false reality,
Ignore what you’ve heard
In an effort to self-soothe.
In case it isn’t obvious—you caused this.
Nobody wanted to sever ties but it was the only option we had left.
And we chose peace.
No longer raising my voice.
No longer taking the punches.
No longer taking lashes for your lash outs.
The “nice, godly preacher father” act fades into the background—meaningless noise.
Your name now only a distant memory.
I try to forget.
I try to erase you.
I can go everyday for the rest of my life without ever missing you.
I’ve done exactly that and I hope someday you find the lesson in it.
As a child, I prayed in my bedroom alone while all hell was breaking loose.
I didn’t pray for you to change.
It was obvious you were incapable.
Instead—I prayed to keep hatred out of my heart
Because it was too heavy for me to carry.
There was only one way.
So I went no contact, “dad”.
And I’ll never look back.
I have no words of wisdom or hope for you on the day you finally pass.
Good luck in Judgement Day.
Only time will tell if we see each other again someday.
I'm also no contact with a family member now, so reading this was good for me. My stress was exponentially lower after I grieved for a bit. Addiction makes us all redefine basic words like "mother" "sister" "father" "son" "daughter" "brother" in ways we never thought possible. Thanks for posting <3, n
I can't imagine what my mother would have been like with cell phones and social media. She had no boundaries. I went no contact when I was 17. I came back ten years later for her funeral.
During that decade, she hunted me down at workplaces, tried to kidnap me from the K-mart parking lot with the aid of her mother, hired a private detective to find me. It was exhausting.
I still feel a little guilt over the sense of relief I felt when she passed away.
I am so glad this conversation is happening and mental health is normalized and prioritized.
Thank you. I was hesitating whether to share it or not, but my decades of experience might help someone else struggling with the same turmoil.
I was estranged from my parents for 16 years while I healed from my CSA. My memoir about it will be out next year.
I hope you find this time restorative, Joy. I know how hard it can't be to go 'no contact.' My sister wrote the poem below on Father's Day this year. I thought I'd share it with you (and whomever reads it):
No contact
For my final act—
I’ll choose no contact.
You’ll never hear another word from me.
On this Father’s Day, you can have dinner with silence.
Eat your own words, sit with your violence
And pretend you don’t deserve this.
When you have nobody—not a single person left—
Will you finally blame yourself?
Have you prayed enough to God for answers
As to why you’re alone, why nobody is coming to help?
Did you ever think for a second that this—“no contact”—IS the answer to your prayers?
Or is there so much to sift through, a lifetime isn’t enough to peel back all the layers
To reveal the truth.
Maybe one day you’ll discover the truth.
Or you can feel sorry for yourself,
Live in a false reality,
Ignore what you’ve heard
In an effort to self-soothe.
In case it isn’t obvious—you caused this.
Nobody wanted to sever ties but it was the only option we had left.
And we chose peace.
No longer raising my voice.
No longer taking the punches.
No longer taking lashes for your lash outs.
The “nice, godly preacher father” act fades into the background—meaningless noise.
Your name now only a distant memory.
I try to forget.
I try to erase you.
I can go everyday for the rest of my life without ever missing you.
I’ve done exactly that and I hope someday you find the lesson in it.
As a child, I prayed in my bedroom alone while all hell was breaking loose.
I didn’t pray for you to change.
It was obvious you were incapable.
Instead—I prayed to keep hatred out of my heart
Because it was too heavy for me to carry.
There was only one way.
So I went no contact, “dad”.
And I’ll never look back.
I have no words of wisdom or hope for you on the day you finally pass.
Good luck in Judgement Day.
Only time will tell if we see each other again someday.
Wow, this really speaks to the pain and difficulty of making this decision, and the acceptance that there is no better option. Thank you for sharing.
I'm also no contact with a family member now, so reading this was good for me. My stress was exponentially lower after I grieved for a bit. Addiction makes us all redefine basic words like "mother" "sister" "father" "son" "daughter" "brother" in ways we never thought possible. Thanks for posting <3, n
I can't imagine what my mother would have been like with cell phones and social media. She had no boundaries. I went no contact when I was 17. I came back ten years later for her funeral.
During that decade, she hunted me down at workplaces, tried to kidnap me from the K-mart parking lot with the aid of her mother, hired a private detective to find me. It was exhausting.
I still feel a little guilt over the sense of relief I felt when she passed away.
Wow! But also good for you for making that astute decision at 17.
You're welcome. I knew you'd understand and appreciate. 💕
All best for a peaceful time.