Within a few days of discovering that my daughter had been molested by my father, I was sitting in a therapist’s office, overwhelmed with rage, guilt, and sorrow.
In my whole life I had never been to a therapist, not that I had anything against them, I just never felt the need. Luckily my wife had an appointment with a therapist already, and she convinced me to take that appointment.
The therapist didn’t say a whole lot, asking a question here and there, while I rambled on for almost 2 hours. It was exactly what I needed, a place where I could speak my mind, without adding fuel to any other fires. So I sat there in a chair, unjudged, listening to myself speak, putting into words everything I was feeling.
I talked about the shock and anger of what my father had done, and how it contrasted with the man I knew, loved and spoke to, nearly every day, for a lifetime. The man who had built a business, and given to many. The man who had taught me so much, and is the foundation for who I am in many ways, successful, independent, honest, fair, a good husband, and even a good father…the same man who had molested my daughter, the man who had betrayed his son, betrayed his family, himself , his legacy…the man I would kill if he were standing in front of me.
I talked about the guilt that I was drowning in, the guilt that only a father who had failed to protect his daughter could know. The guilt of a father, who upon kissing his daughter goodnight, failed to realize what it meant, when she, half asleep, asked him to lock her door….the guilt of a father who failed to keep the monsters out.
I talked about the sorrow I had for my daughter. This precious, beautiful and kind young woman, had been abused, controlled, manipulated, molested, and victimized. At the time I had no idea how bad the damage was, or for how long she had carried this painful secret. I just knew it was bad, and that it was done by her own grandfather, by someone she loved and trusted.
Then somewhere in all of that anger, guilt, and sorrow, I had a much-needed epiphany. The act of talking out loud and putting pain into words, made me realize how much my daughter and I had in common, how strong she was, how resilient, and that we both had the strength to get through this, especially if she had unending and unwavering support. She would have it, if only from my wife and me.
By the end of that session, the therapist was in tears at the enormity of what I was going through. While she had only just met me, she had known me and my daughter for a year, through my wife’s stories and sessions. Through that storied connection, it was hard for her to be objective, and I could see it in her face. It would be our only session, but before I left, she recommended a single book.
She recommended “Mans search for meaning” by Viktor E Frankl.
I am not going to turn this into a book review, but If you are struggling with deep pain and grief or are attempting to find your way through traumatic events, then I recommend it to you.
It made something I always knew, more concrete.
We each need a purpose. Without purpose we as individuals, are not entirely whole, we are idle, lost, hopeless.
There is a void in our lives and we are prone to fill that void .
My father, who had his first job at 8 years old, had built a successful business, worked hard his entire life, raised and provided for his family, had been a deacon in his church a member of the choir, had somehow lost purpose and meaning in his life.
It is common among people, especially men who have accomplished much and are close to retirement to go through this.
To fill some of that void, initially my father had started playing video games, eventually one of those games would take over his life. It was a game that allowed him to feel like he was building something, he could feel like he accomplished something.
Eventually that would not be enough and his thoughts would turn and twist to something else..to someone else.. my only daughter, and our lives would be forever changed.