Death of an abusive parent

My abusive father passed away this morning. The family attacks hurt, the betrayals hurt, and I am grieving him. I too feel a little free because I dont have that fear anymore, but its been replaced with the fear of my brother. I'll be 50 next month...I want to live the next 50 years as good as the last 49 were bad...........Im emotionally raw.

I recently moved 2,600 miles from my mom without telling her or any of my immediate family. I thought long and hard about it before making the decision and decided that I need to think about myself now and try not to worry about them. But, I know, the day will comd (my mom is 80) that I will get that phone call. I dread it. I want them to leave me alone. My brother makes me feel guilty about my absence, but I'm doing it for my own sanity. I'm always made to feel guilty..... Take care, all who have been abused in any way. We must survive!

My dad committed suicide when I was 17, it seemed almost impossible to me at first, and I was likely in shock when the police came to my school and told me about it. I don't think I was emotionally upset that he was dead as much as I was responding to the emotions around me and all the sudden life changes (i.e. house being repossessed).

It didn't take too long for me to forget him altogether and move on from his death. In fact, in the few months after his death I was actually really happy, thinking it was a new beginning for me.

Afterwards I began to felt resentful towards him because his act of suicide cost us so much, and even now we're still struggling to survive.

But it is better he is dead.

Im in the same boat! Lets just cross that bridge when it comes!

I'm really glad I found this forum! I just learned over Labor Day weekend that my mom, who was/is my primary abuser, has terminal skin cancer and is not expected to die in the next few months (the doctor gave her 6 months, but I frankly think she'll die long before then). I know I'm SUPPOSED to feel sad and badly and everything, but all I can really feel right now is HAPPY and OVERJOYED that I will soon be FREE of this soul-crushing harridan! I don't wish death by cancer on anyone, but I've longed to be free of her for so long that I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I know that I'll be going through alot of different emotions in the coming months, but right now I'm just excited at the prospect of having a life without the fear that she currently produces in my life. Seeing that others have gone/are going through the same struggles as me is tremedously helpful and encouraging! My mother and I have ALOT of unfinished business, and I've accepted that it will never be finished. I do plan to have the last word, however. I'll will have a letter to mother stating EVERTHING that I think of her, and I will making sure that it is in the coffin with her when she is buried!

i'm not in this situation i wish those people would hurry up and die they are useless to society. however, if i was in this situation, i would celebrate! ok, not everybody will agree with me on this i am sure they would ask me how could i celebrate? easy answer why do i need to feel empathy towards the abusers? if i showed empathy, it just shows they still won in the end and your still their little door mat.

i do not hide that i would celebrate if my parents died, nobody cared about my dad's mom when she died. she died an alcoholic by herself in her house and was found a week later. she was abusive towards my dad and his sister but i never knew thank god i feel bad that my siblings knew her and my 2 sisters hated her because of how they were treated and my brother was treated like gold.

i believe in eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. i am about getting even so i have no remorse for abusers and neither should a victim but i have seen victims get all emotional makes me roll my eyes every time i see that or hear stories about them doing that.

My father and brother were both abusive emotionally and physically after my mom died when I was 13. My father died 8 years later from a heart attack. My brother was complicent when his best friend raped me at 14. While I miss him sometimes, I do not miss the abuse of a depressed and dysfunctional family. I had to distance myself and live all of my adult life without family. I really miss not having a family sometimes.

I have since tried to forgive them for the past. A lot of it was the result of hurting people who should have known better but didn't. I have decided though I cannot carry the hurt and pain for the rest of my life. It was what it was and I cannot change the past, just keep it from screwing up the rest of my life if I can

Forgiveness is a process. I am doing it for me, not for them. And trying to make sure that I do not repeat the same mistakes with my own family

My mother died a year ago. I remember the phone call from an unknown doctor to tell me that at 83 and living in a nursing home, she had bowel cancer and about four weeks to live. I was shocked by the diagnosis - we are stroke people, not cancer! So I think I sounded 'normal' on the phone because I kept saying, 'cancer?!' as though I didn't want to believe it. But I was very keen to believe it and also experienced a 'yes' (punch the air) feeling deep down inside.

I had wished her dead for years - she had a borderline personality disorder and was extremely emotionally abusive, so bad in fact that as a frail, old lady 'caring' for my disabled, adult brother, she was dragged from the home as an involuntary psychiatric patient because the abuse of him just couldn't be ignored anymore. When she died I tried to cry but it was a very empty time, very little emotion. I was numb as so many people on here have said. Mum was so awful that no one would go to her funeral and I was so pleased to not have to organise something and get up to tell a pack of lies about her. My brother and I just put her ashes in the ground. No tears, no big emotions. I asked him if he wanted to say anything about her and he managed, 'She was a very unusual personality'.

Now a year later, I am incredibly emotional about her death and the lifetime of abuse. I grieve for the little girl who was abused. I grieve for what never was. I get confused by memories of loving, happy times - but that's the way it often is with mental illness. I feel incredibly sad, very down on myself and often deeply depressed. Her death took an immediate stress out of my life but her legacy will take a long time to get over. I know I can and will get there. I want to. On her good days she would have wanted me to as well - at least that is what I'd like to think.

hoping, that is very real

My physical, mental & emotional abuser/mother was diagnosed 10 years ago with dementia. Oh GREAT that's all she gets? I wanted to see karma!! I wanted her in PAIN for all the pain she caused me. Why couldn't the universe give her cancer for goodness sake? So I've had 10 years to get mad, mourn the mother I never had, find a spiritual path, forgive (in the sense I will no longer carry the pain for what she did). I have no happy memories of my childhood. None. She nearly died a few days ago & boy I'm glad I found all you wonderful likeminded folk here! BIIIG huuuugs to you all. I am not alone anymore. I was excited, joyful, giddy with the realisation she could die. Gone from my life...IT STOPS HERE! I feel nothing for her, I don't care for her & am so tired of having to respond to the 'oh your poor mother' 'it's so sad', 'but she's still your mother' crap people dribble. I've always known I will be singing Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead but with champagne. My only concern is keeping my strength & not taking on the energy of others when she does die. She made me cry for 40 years in life & I will not shed a tear for the death of someone who caused so much pain & discomfort. No more Mother's Day eeehaaaaahhh!

March 13, 2013
My abusive father is dying. I rose above it all - just as I knew I would when he finally far far far too late in the game reached out to me and my brother.

I worked ceaselessly got hospice in place and backed it up with a care provider to fill in the gaps - when hospice could not be available. This relieved me of the sense that even though he abandoned me emotionally all my life, I would not mette out the same cruelty to him.

He even managed to take jabs at me in the past few weeks, with one crisis after another. He removed me as medical advocate, ok - YEAH! I was for my mom, and it was far different from the way things are unraveling with him. I feel no love for him. He is a misogynist, a low-life lying stupid pathetic human who never earned the right to call himself my father.

My brother has power of attorney and legal power of medical advocacy. I was listed, but my father pulled me off. This is my area of expertise. I was my mother's medical advocate and it felt like an honor. He pulled me out of the documents as med. advocate to take another jab at me - and frankly I am relieved. He sickens me.

My father? I hate him. I hate the way he abused me, physically, mentally, spiritually. I am empty - WHAT I AM GOING THROUGH IS SO INTENSE, I AM GRIEVING THE FATHER I NEVER HAD. He was a mean cruel wolf, I consider myself a human raised by a wolf, he is/was a control freak, manipulator and went out of his way my whole life 100's of times to slash me down verbally, debase me, degrade me - never once acknowledging my gifts, my skills, what a wonderful kind lovely beautiful woman I am. NO VALIDATION. Instead he tormented me - held everything over my head, vilified me - when I extended myself - for over a year to be there for my mom when she was dying 2 years ago this month. ALL FEELINGS ARE VALID AND NORMAL. It IS normal to grieve an abusive, abandoning parent - as we are grieving the loss of the dream, of what we desperately needed and wanted and were born entitled to.

Every newborn child comes into the world with the right to be loved unconditionally, parented with structure, compassion, guidance, healthy rules and boundaries, forgiveness, kindness - and honesty.

I received none of that growing up. none. I have no apologies, and am not surprised at the pain I feel now watching him decline. We die as we have lived. He has made choices that now contribute to his feelings of isolation.
No friends visit, his brother will have nothing to do with him, I am done - I can no longer face the toxic cyclonic crazy energy that surrounds this energy vampire who is listed as my "father" on my birth certificate.

My heart is broken into pieces. The first man in my life - taught me growing up - how undervalued I was, hammered at my self-esteem. It turns out I am so beautiful and it took - decades for me to look in the mirror and see it in my face, my shape and my heart. I AM BEAUTIFUL IN EVERY WAY. It is because I looked at him and his alcoholic behavior - and from as young as I can remember, told myself - this is everything I do not want to be. And I am not, I am greater - stronger, gentle, giving, kind, compassionate, real, honest, and have done recovery work to claim my life - and have already began living my bucket list!!! As he passes so does the anguish and still that sense of Armour I must use when we speak, the anguish and anger that accompanies our stilted empty conversations. I am 54, and this is the hardest thing I have ever faced. I have God, I have the divine, the great spirit. Rooted in this is my spirit and my life's intention to be all that I am in any given moment.

I want to thank you for showing me that I am not the only person that is confused on what to do. I am a survivor of child abuse (physical and mental) and domestic violence from the hands of both my parents.

To sum it up, I was abused since I was born. But I finally got the courage to get away after a traumatic event in 2003. I have been estranged from my parents and siblings since then. My children and I moved about an hour away from where they were living and tried to stay "hidden". In 2005, they found us and since our TRO expired, there was nothing I could do. They bought a house about a street away from us. Unfortunately, due to financial reasons, we have never been able to move anywhere else. So, at least once, every week, we see their car drive past our house.

Yesterday, I was bored and decided to go on FB and search for people I know, just to see how people have changed. That is when I found my siblings. On their page it stated that their mother (who is my mother as well) passed a couple of weeks back. Needless to say ... I am in shock and am confused. I truly do not know exactly how to feel.

I feel happy, because that is one less person that I have to worry about trying to harm me or my children. But I feel sad, because she did give birth to me, and was my mother. But I also feel angry because no one had informed me of the death. I mean it wouldn't be that hard to drop a note in my mailbox while they were driving by at night. I am also upset because though I tried my best to shield my children from my family to keep them safe, they may later in life ask where their grandparents are.

I believe in respecting the dead. But did I and my children not deserve an apology from my mother for what she made me and later my children and I go through? Or at least the common courtesy of letting us know that at least one of them is gone?

My children and I are alone, I guess you can say. We don't have friends or any family members except for their uncle/my brother-in-law, whom we live with. We've lived in fear for so long that I have no idea how to process this information.

My father emotionally and verbally abused me growing up. He is still a part of my life and he now has cancer, and has been having mini strokes. I think about the possibility of him dying all the time. Sometimes I think that it would make it so much easier. That I would feel relief and not have to worry about dealing with any of his s**t anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry about the way he treats my brothers either. I could finally stop being so protective. But then I think about the good times we had together, the times where he helped me, and treated me well, and I know I would be crushed if her were to die.

It is conflicting emotions for me. I guess I will just have to deal with it when it happens.

My mother passed away almost two years ago. She was an unhappy, manipulative, negative person. She triangulated her children so that my brother, sister and I were separated emotionally. She scapegoated my sister and me, my sister is 7 years older than me, my brother 4 years older. When my sister left home, my mother was was able to fully focus on me, especially since my brother left for college around the same time and he would not be a witness to her behavior.

That being said, she had prepared me nicely to take on that role as she treated me with little concern during my childhood, criticized me constantly and created hysterical scenes over things that should not have caused her to react this way. I was always the one to apologize to mother for causing these events. She never came to me to apologize. She would accept my apology and then tell me I should not behave that way again, when in reality it was her . She would chase me around the house and scream and yell until I completely fell apart and would sob and cry, then stand over me when she reached her goal and continue with her tantrum. She would smile at me when in my sobbing I told her I hated her. My destruction soothed her.

My brother was the good child. He is a good man, but I know to this day that he suffers from being the one who escaped much of my mother's wrath. It was only when she was about 92 that my brother was through being the good child. He saw what she was. She didn't like that, so she then turned on him. It was easier for my sister and brother during my mothers last 15 years because she lived near me, I was the caretaker. The both lived out of state and only say her once a year, if that. The did speak to her on the phone and it was never pleasant.

When my mother passed away at 94, I was the one who made decisions, I was the one who wtayed with her in the hospital day after day as she came closer to death. I was the one left with all her belongings, I was the one to pick up her ashes and the one left to scatter them. My brother and sister both came when she died. They did not want anything she left. The left everything with me.

She had written a letter to my brother saying it should only be read to me after her death. Of course it was a self-serving, hateful letter that even after he death wounded me deeply. As I went through her belongings, I found a another letter addressed to me. Inside the envelope was a letter she had torn up, but left for me to read in an envelope with my name on it. It was devastating to read, however it was also confirmation that my memories of her were valid.

I still have not scattered her ashes. For some reason, I am just not ready. I don't know why. Maybe I have magical thinking that I need to keep them to keep the hope alive that somehow I will find a way to accept who and what she was. Or another fantasy I have is that I will find some positive memories of her that will comfort me and allow me to scatter her ashes in a kind and loving way. Conflicting feelings hold me back from scattering her ashes. I am filled with dread when I even think of touching the container the ashes are in.

I am in therapy now and one issue of course is my mother. I have so many abusive memories that have come out. I am trying to understand that she had her own MI issues and never sought treatment because she always thought her behavior was acceptable, everyone else was wrong, anyone who disagreed with her or tried to help her was wrong and evil. It was black or white. No in between.

I grieve what could have been. I see some glimpses in my memory of a few times where she was pleasant. I don't however recall any time that she was loving, kissed or hugged me or validated me. I laugh at myself thinking her ashes can give me what I never had.

In reading my post, I know it is time to scatter the ashes, they are what they are. Nothing can be done at this point to change the past. I am somehow fooling myself into thinking there is a kind and loving mother in that box.

I pretended my whole life that I was OK. After she passed away somehow I lost the ability to continue to pretend and her passing, coupled with a life changing injury, sent me into a deep depression. The last year especially has been horrific depression wise.

I want to scatter her ashes, yet I want to keep them. Who the hell knows why I would want to keep them. I guess in the end, it is saying goodbye to my dreams of a having a loving mother. I am terrified to scatter them. Somehow I feel compelled to keep them. I just don't understand it.

Hello everyone,
This is my first time on Psych Central forums - I joined today when I learned that my father had died in his sleep last night.

My father physically abused my brother, sister and I due to his anger/control issues, and instead of apologizing (after a severe episode) he'd buy us something or take us somewhere - so I have good memories and traumatic memories..

I was put in to foster care at the age of 12, and shortly returned home due to my siblings not speaking out (they were, like me, terrified of his wrath) - I returned home and my father told me that he could no longer love nor trust me the same way he did my brother and sister. That because of my actions, he couldn't walk down the street without people staring at him like a monster. I believed him, and believed myself to be the worst kind of spoiled brat, until my sister told me the truth at the age of 24.

I stopped speaking to my parents when I discovered the truth, that I had not lied or exaggerated in any way about the chaos/terror that went on in my house, and before I could gather the courage to confront them about this, he died.

I always thought I would be free when he passes away - because he couldn't condescend me or hit me again - instead I feel crushing guilt and sorrow that so many things we left unsaid between us. I wanted to hear him say he was sorry, that he loved me, that he was proud of me.. instead I have to live with the fact that he said the exact opposite and never treated me the same as my siblings (as they didn't "tattle" on him).

I feel alone, and I feel like I am a bad person for ignoring him for the past year or two, we never made amends or even saw eye to eye on what happened to our father-daughter relationship, and now I have to live with never having told him the truth.

Maybe that is for the best, maybe he would have said more hurtful things to me if I had "come clean" - but I can't help but feel terrible that I never told him.

Does anyone know what I am going through? or have any words of advice to offer me?

I'm really sorry for your abuse and the death of your parent. No matter how abusive parents are, kids have love for them and loss of parent still hurts.

My story - My father molested me multiple times. But it's his words which broke me. Most of my teenage, I only remember his ridicule that I was too stupid to do anything. On most days I just used to feel "I don't why my father even comes back from office." He often told my brother and I when we were teenagers that he's going to leave us (he never did). His wonderful advices for my life included "Never get married....become a career woman." He controlled me with sheer presence.

One day, when I was watching TV, he walked in the room. He didn't order, ridicule or anything. With a friendly voice....he said "can we watch this instead?". I obliged.

When the program ended, he just left after wishing me good night. I couldn't control my thoughts.....I just said in my mind "life would be so perfect if it would have been just mom, brother and me...." and out of the blue a thought came "I just wish dad would die"...even though he didn't say or do anything that day.

Believe it or not...he suffered a near fatal stroke 2 days later. He survived but his mobility severely reduced. He had to resign from his job. He started getting double vision. 5 yrs later, he died.

When my mother gave me the news of his death over the phone....the first thought that came to my mind was "good....he won't molest anyone anymore."

I didn't cry much at the funeral. I didn't cry much even after that. But I remember crying a lot whenever I heard some songs....I felt really sad and sorry for his fate....he had become very child like after stroke....it also felt like losing your child who depended on you for their safety.

Slowly....I fell into depression. They say people who were in a bad relationship are more likely to fall into depression after the person's death, because you have no positive memories to cherish and you blame yourself for being resentful towards them. Heck...in my case, I wished for his death....though not consciously....it just came suddenly in my head.

During the course of my depression....I finally admitted to myself that my father had sexually abused me (till that day, I convinced myself that it was a figment of my imagination). Initially, I defended his actions (oh....maybe it was work pressure....maybe because grandfather was dying with cancer...maybe he was sexually abused himself....blah blah).

Slowly...I learned to accept that it happened without defending him. Then slowly....I became angry at my father...especially when I think about how he robbed my childhood....how badly he screwed up my brother and turned him into a narcissist.....how he made my mom burden all responsibilities of home....while he took responsibilities he liked...earning money. He used his daughter to gratify himself. He held my mother in a sham marriage, fooled her and kept her in a delusion that it's a perfect marriage by showering a few praises.

Today, when I think about it....I have a few fond memories of my father. He did a few good things in life. But that still doesn't make him a good person. He was the adult. He could have seeked help. He didn't. He probably might have guessed that the abuse will damage me....he didn't care.
I also like to think that I had 2 different fathers - one before stroke....the abusive jerk and one after stroke...a softie who showered affection who had become baby like.....but NEVER regretted any of his actions.

All in all....he was extremely WRONG in doing what he did. I thank him wholeheartedly for providing us with food, home, education and occasional love. I thank him for taking care of my mother......since according to her, she's had a "happy, blissful marriage."

I took care of him when he suffered stroke. Even if he were to magically reappear, I would still take care of him. If he needed a kidney from me to save his life, I would happy to give him. My love for my father is still unconditional as every child has.

But that love does not erase the anger I have for him. It doesn't change the fact that he abused us, ruined our childhood, left me some scars for life. I will NEVER forgive him for that. He failed as a parent.

If a person has to be appreciated for a good deed....they also have to be reprimanded for their bad deeds. A parent may get the nicest book, healthiest food and softest bed for their child, but if they are abusive towards them....all these actions really mean nothing.

Finally, where it leaves me with my dad - On some days I have fond memories, on some days I have bitter. I thank him for all the good things he did for us, but I also cannot forgive for his abusive actions. I don't want a "sum total of good actions minus bad actions". It will continue to remain dysfunctional. I have emotionally distanced myself from him.

I am happy and sad at the same time. Happy because I would never be abused by him and molested by him again. Sad....because he was my father and after his stroke, we had become a little closer .I however have to live with the fact, that I would ALWAYS feel guilty and responsible for his death....because I wished that.

Only two weeks have passed since my father died. He was not a very nice man although did have some very fine qualities.
I've never lost someone close before my father. I want to just grieve for the loss, but to do that I have to hold him in a dishonest light. When I start to allow myself to feel plain sadness and nostalgia I have to stop so I don't remember him as I wanted him to be instead of how he was.
I feel foggy, detached, mixed up, and my head or stomach have taken a leading role in making me feel ill.

I do not want to get called into the darkness of depression over this.
My body won't let me ignore it.

Where to begin?

My father died 2 years ago and that was when things got complicated

I am an only child and when I was little my dad was my hero, the best daddy in the whole world to me. He would play games with me and we had a lot of fun. But when I was around 5 yo he started drinking. His choleric nature showed more and more and I got really confused because he was not the dad I knew he was becoming scary and angry. I did not understand why one day he is really nice and next he is really mean to me and shouting at me for nothing.
With time he was nearly never nice again and only the "scary" father would be present. I felt really sad and I missed my "nice" dad. When I got older I realized that dad is never coming back and that this father looks like him but he is not the same person. I did not really have the chance to grieve him though.

When i was 18 yo I left home and my parents divorced. I had to go and "check" my father every weekend. He started to just drink all day long and did not care about anything. Did not clean his place or wash himself. He made a lot of debts, crashed his car, ruined his house... I had to pay a lot of things and organize so he would not end up homeless. He was still being very verbally and emotionally abusive to me. I worked full time and studied university at the same time. Nodoby from my family ever asked me if I need help or if I am coping ok, nobody cared. And me being me I did not say anything and just did everything in my power to seem OK.

When I was 24yo my father got cancer and was ill for 2 years. He was home the whole time his mother helped me because he needed basic care 24/7 and I was at work. That were hard times. He was in a lot of pain and I just felt pity for him. I only wished to hear him say sorry, to explain why, to make it all better ...but that is a movie stuff doesn´t happen in real life. He just died.

I felt great relief and guilt for feeling this way but that was about it. I already lost my dad when I was 5 years old.
Week after my father´s funeral my mother got diagnosed with terminal brain cancer with expectancy to live aproximately 6 months. She decided to fight and had brain surgery, chemo and radio therapy and all that. She got better and is still here 2 years later.

Unfortunately since my father´s death and mother´s diagnosis I went numb and became completely out od energy and motivation. I have great difficulty finishing my school where I have last step to take to have masters, I don´t do my job at all. And I had a breakdown and kinda lost it. So here I am.

my dad died when i was 10 . he was physically abusive. he got sick from cancer. i watched him go from powerful and scary to meek and mild man. paralyzed. in a hospital bed in my home. i was still scared of him when he was sick. i wouldnt go around him. when he died i was sad. i felt like my anger killed him.

Katy: You lost a parent...grieving isn't dishonest....no matter what kind of a parent we have......it is natural......loss is painful, no matter what that person was like. Allow yourself to feel ALL of the feelings that you do. Feelings aren't right or wrong, the simply are....you might want to sit down and write about all of your feelings also.....perhaps write a letter to him.