Well, it happened again. A brief history : I was raised by barbaric, cynical, abusive, neglectful parents. My brother and I were subjected to abuses of all kinds. Physical, sexual, you name it. And when they weren't brutalizing us, we were being neglected. Physically, emotionally, the whole gambit.

My "mother" passed away 3 years ago. I can honestly say I've never shed a tear for her. I've only been to her gravesite once in those 3 years - to lay a wreath on the first Christmas because "It was the right thing to do." Haven't been near it since. And I have no plans to in the near future.

My "father" is 85 y/o and in failing health. Was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer some years ago and has refused medical treatment. Shortly before this past Thanksgiving I received a call from the local clinic where he lives. They informed me that Dad had been into see them earlier in the day complaining of problems passing urine. Told them he hadn't been able to go to the bathroom in 2 days. (!) They had immediatly drained his bladder & advised him that he needed to have a cathater inserted while they treated the cancer. Apparently the prostate had swollen to the point it was blocking his urinary tract. Of course by this time he was feeling better & told them flatly that he wasn't doing any of that & he walked out.

So the nurse was calling me telling me all this and urged me to try to convince him to have this done or he would "drown in his own urine - a slow, painful, horrible death."

So being the "good son" I rush to his house along with my brother & for 2 hrs tried to convince him to have this simple procedure done. Finally, in desparation I called the Division of Aging to hopefully find somebody familiar with this population who could talk him into it. Well, not only didn't that happen but I heard my father tell this person that if "anybody comes to my house I have a loaded shotgun & I'll use it!"

Well, that was it! At that point I got back on the phone and the lady from the Division told me she wasn't going anywhere NEAR that place and suggested we call an ambulance to have him transported to the Hospital. I called an ambulance service - explained the situation - and was advised that before they would transport him the weapon had to be removed from the home. So. The Police were called - again the situation was explained. I was expecting the local constable to come over and talk the old geezer out of his gun. WRONG!

The next thing I know there are about a dozen Police vehicles tearing up in front of the house - guys jump out with drawn pistols - rifles - and automatic weapons - in full gear... They surround the house, block off the street and after a bit I see my father being led from the house in cuffs...!

Of course on the way to the Hospital he makes some remark about "not wanting to live anymore" - which gets him 2 weeks in a MH facility for assessment and treatment...

After being released, the next time I speak to him he tells me "You're no damn good!!" Blames ME for the entire incident. Blames ME for rushing to him to get him the help I was told by medical personell to possibly SAVE HIS LIFE!!!

So that's the mentality I'm dealing with.

Fast forward to yesterday. I called him to see how he was doing. Because in spite of the years of torture, I still miss him - care about him on some level - he's my FATHER for Christ's sake. Like I said we have barely spoken since Thanksgiving. Well, when I called him yesterday he started right in on that ncodent - "How could you do that to me?!?" Etc Etc Etc. As if it had happened yesterday...

A couple times I tried to tell him that I didn't call to argue - just wanted to see how he's doing. He just wouldn't hear me! Finally I told him I had to go. And hung up the phone.

Afterwards I was FILLED with ANGER - SADNESS - FRUSTRATION. I'm to blame for trying to save that man's life????? I paced - I swore to myself. I cried. I wanted to jump out of my own skin!! And this was after a less than 5 minute phone conversation with this man!!!

How is it that they can have such POWER over us when we KNOW - as adults - in therapy - rationally - that we don't have to be at the mercy of them any more. And how in the WORLD do we overcome that???

PTSD? "Survivor or Abuse?" What? All I know is my T will get an ear full of this come tomorrow. Any other feedback anyone has to offer would be appreciated.

HELP!!!!