This is the hardest blog I’ve had to write, because it brings understanding and finality on something I’ve had to work on and find out for myself for as long as I have been and that’s never easy.
And where our memories act as a reminder, sometimes those memories aren’t ours to own; like when I found out I had Cerebral Palsy and having to ask my father why he didn’t tell me and him coming straight out with the answer I wasn’t expecting to hear.
That memory remains ingrained, because not only was it a memory I didn’t need to hear or expect, it finally explained and confirmed my father’s mind and actions for all those years where I was kept in the dark without a diagnosis. For him, it was still business as usual; going out for walks, with him walking behind me telling me to pick my foot up, heal toe and to stop dragging my leg.
Although it’s not an excuse, when any parent is damaged, they will expose their children to protect themselves. By blanking their issues out they get to sleep at night. Although my mum could have spoken to me in confidence about my diagnosis, it was a gamble she wasn’t prepared to risk.
And where you have one parent who can’t emotionally help and the other parent can, the buck passes solely back to the parent who can; the one who is capable, the one who can, but chooses not to. Where someone is broken, but not badly broken, where they’re aware they can act and choose not to, they will always act with selfish intent.
When at the age of 46, I finally found out and was able to discuss with my father why I wasn’t told about my diagnosis and he said he didn’t want to know, it will never make that time right or put my life right, but knowing now about why, for me goes some way to explain the bigger picture on why he failed to protect, support and tell me about my diagnosis.
My voice of reason understands, but my voice of reason also tells me the buck doesn’t stop with me. That we must rationale and reconcile these things for ourselves, in all circumstances. That this isn’t mine to own.