|Blogs > doodoooccidental > My Tanked Up Thoughts|
(copied from msn spaces)
Anyway, my plan is to write to this msn spaces blog once every two days at least. I will write to my blogger/blogsource/alt/passion/AdultFriendFinder blog once every other two days. I hope that's clear. The blogger/blogsource/alt/passion/AdultFriendFinder blogs contain sexually explicit entries which I don't want to write here because, for one thing, I don't think msn spaces allow such entries. So, I'll stay clear of trouble there. That's not to say I won't try to shake the boat a little from time to time. Ideally, yes,I would like to write the same posts to all my blogs simultaneously but nah, I can't. I've got to make do with this situation. Besides, I know quite a lot now, I think, about the workings of msn spaces so why not continue to keep it. I've written to officialdom in msn spaces too and one of their representatives got back to me and told me that my space was vaulable to them.
Definitely, I am quite a timid guy. It's only just dawning on me just how useful blogs are. They're no gimmick. They are a serious tool of communication with the rest of the world. With a blog, I have the confidence to build up a network of friends around the planet. I can explore my fantasies, fears, prejudices and so on and in the process learn so much more about myself. Isn't that why we're all doing it?
In any case, I will now write a confession. My uncle on my mother's side. My mother's brother committed suicide in 1989. I think it was 1989. It's nothing to be ashamed of. He was 40 at the time. I think he was 40 at the time.. My information is that he threw himself over a bridge in London and he couldn't swim so he drowned. It seems to me that, well, the genes on my mother's side of the family aren't nearly as robush at the genes on my father's side of the family. I'm not blaming my mother's brother for that. Not at all. But, I'm not going to spin this fact out of existence either. It's a fact and we have to face facts in life.
My dad's family have, on the whole, had good mental and physical strength. Above average, I would say. My uncle, Michael, is over 80 now and is still taking walks every day. He's in good health. A little doddery physically but still here.. I last checked on him at the end of December. He was in good shape. I must check on him again soon.
But, my father wasn't perfect either. He had a problem with violence. He used to hit me when I was growing up, as a teenager for instance. I didn't deserve that. I remember beingat the receiving end of his beatings and trying to reason with him. The more I tried to reason with him, the more he hit me. I looked inito his eyes and what did I see? I saw despair. I don't want to be violence to anyone. This is one mistake I don't want every to make. I don't want to lose my temper. I don't want to lose my cool. I don't want to feel despair in the same way my father felt it when he was hitting me (for no reason). Okay, maybe, I did say some cantankerous and provocative things. I can't remember now what they were. But, hell, I reckon most teenagers (like 90% of them) can be cranky and a little nutty sometimes given the release of hormones during those years. My father was wrong, wrong, wrong for what he did.
But, I will say he was a good man. He had a problem with violence yes. But, he wasn't an evil man. He was unemployed. I think this took away some of his self-esteem. In the 1980s, there was a lot of unemployment in Ireland. Some of the most incompetent politicians are to be found in Ireland, both north and south. It is even so today but it was especially the case in the 1970s and 1980s. Our politicians were incompetent and out-of-touch with ordinary people on the ground. In the 1970s, the motto during election campaigns was spend, spend,spend, especially after we joined the European Economic Community which made yet more money available to farmers and such.. We spent money but we didn't earn it. So, Ireland ran up a huge debt. When, finally,in the early 1980s, the Government faced up to the reality that spending had to be reduced it was done so (gradually) at the cost of rocking unemployment. My father was one of those victims.
In the 1980s, we had two incompetent idiots in charge in Ireland. One was Charlie Haughey and the other was Garrett Fitzgerald. Famously, Garrett Fitzgerald used to accuse Charlie Haughey of being of "flawed pedigree". Presumably, he meant that, unlike holy Garrett Fitzgerald, Haughey's blood ancesters weren't at the front line (at the top of leadership) in steering independent Ireland in the early days or gaining independence. Mr Fitzgerald's remarks were also aimed at people such as myself, ordinary Joe and Jane Blogs on the streets who also didn't get involved in the heated politics of early 1900s Ireland. Most of our ancestors would have voted patiently for John Redmond's Home Rule party and would have rejected the violence and blood sacrifice of Pearse, as well, frankly, psychotic.
Anyway, back to my dad.
My aunt, my dad's older sister by about 5 or 6 years. I remember a dinner when I was about 15 (I can't remember the occasion). My aunt diabolically made the statement at this dinner that my dad wouldn't hurt a fly and didn't know anything about violence. Yeah, she would say that. And her remark infuriated me. But, at the time, I said nothing. What could I say? Of course, in my aunt's eyes, my father wouldn't hurt a fly because when my aunt was growing up in the 1930s, all she could remember was my sweet little dad as a sweet little boy who did everything she told him to. The reality is that my father used to hit my mother. He was wrong to do so. Being unemployed was no excuse to do so. My sister told me, after my dad died in 1991, that he used to hit her too, which surprised me. My brother, I don't know about.
The key point is that, well, I don't ever ever want to experience the despair in my eyes, as I saw in my dad's eyes when he was hitting me like an animal one day when I was about 13. I don't want ever ever to be violent. Ever!! I'd rather be a sexual virgin than hit anyone.
Hmm, another thing I want to talk about. Well, when I was 18/19, I went off to college. Yeah, I had problems. During my teen years, I was hopelessly shy. After school, I would walk home and retire to my bed room. Sometimes, play with myself. not talk to anyone. I didn't even have the confidence to go to the local post office to buy a stamp. I was 14 at the time and my dad tried to cajole me to go to the local post office by myself to buy a stamp and I couldn't. I was afraid they would laugh at me there.
At 19,my mother sent for a local doctor to talk with me. My father died when I was 17. I was a complete recluse at 19. I think I had already dropped out of college at that stage. After seeing this guy a few times, I felt compelled to go back to him one day, one weekend, to confess to him that my father was a violent man.
He would have none of it. He replied "Your father liked me and I liked him. He was a good man". In hindsight, I think he was saying to me that, well, this is not a problem, pretend this didn't happen. But, it did happen. And, I must face up to it. And, I am not a failure for confessing to it. At the time, I felt, and I feel now, that at that time, I could find no one, not a soul, who would listen to me and help me, and offer me help.
Anyway, I have written enough about this now. I will now sign off.