In Darcie’s Own Words

Editor’s Note: The following article is an excerpt from my manuscript detailing my own abuse. Please see “My Story of Abuse” under the category link. I really wanted my readers to hear for themselves from Crystal and Darcie. Crystal is 65 and still living. Darcie however, passed at 58 years old from congestive heart failure. I very fortunately just found a letter she has written to her Heavenly Father about our childhood. I’d like to share that letter with my readers.

woman in black

Fearful, hate, disgust, needing his approval, wanting his love, but never getting it—scary at times. The times he did spend with us sober were fun, but mostly I remember him drinking and fighting and me being afraid of him, wanting to get away from him. Him hurting my dogs, always threatening to get rid of them or shoot them. I loved and protected my dogs with my life. They loved me because I took care of them.

He ridiculed and made fun of me, like I was stupid. He use to tell me how stupid I was, cause I didn’t make good grades in school. I didn’t do well, because he kept me awake a lot. He would drink, curse, or be fighting with Mom. She never stood up to him—she would just take it. I kept telling her to put him out, but she would just kind of laugh and say, “Oh Darcie, you love your Dad.” I guess cause that’s the way it was supposed to be.
He was really abusive. I would go with Aunt Daisy and Uncle Frank and my Uncle Junior all the time to get away from him. My uncles and aunt treated me good, I was someone special with them. I don’t understand why he didn’t love me—I was his little girl. Why couldn’t he be gentle, loving and kind with me instead of being so scary and loud.
After I grew older, he liked making fun of me, the way I talked , the things I’d do, he always shunned me. Like when I first become pregnant and my boyfriend and I weren’t married. Dad made me move out of the house, didn’t speak to me for months, and then the day before I lost my baby (I was five months pregnant) we were invited over by Mom for dinner. Dad ignored me. He talked briefly to my boyfriend. The next day I lost my baby and hemorrhaged all over Dad’s car seat. They didn’t care that I was losing the baby—Dad and my boyfriend didn’t want it anyway. After I’d lost the baby and went to surgery, Dad leaned down to kiss me. I told him to get the hell away from me that I knew he didn’t want the grandson I carried; he was ashamed of him and me too.
Then Dad got lung cancer and I was forced to help take care of him. He was mean, hateful, spit on me, pored hot coffee on me. And I still wanted his approval; I still wanted him to love me. Somewhere along the months, I learned to forgive him and love him for what he was. He was dying of cancer and couldn’t do too much to hurt me now. He died at the age of forty-nine, but he and I reached a peace before he died. He was just all he could be with what he had. I don’t think Mom really loved him as a husband; nor made him feel loved. He was ignorant—didn’t really have much education and neither did Mom. But, he found Jesus and was talking to him when he died. But, he never looked at me and said, “I’m sorry Darcie for the way I treated you.”
He treated me worse than his dog sometimes and I hated him. I thought about killing him, but didn’t know how. When you’re a kid how do you get rid of the terror your afraid of; the things he done, not always being drunk he would do mean, hateful things. i.e. ridicule me to the point I thought I was nothing—the same way he treated Mom. She was so unhappy and after all these years, I understand why. He came in drunk one time and started arguing with her, she never really said much back to him. She would just stand and look at him. He got the gun out one night when he was drunk, and was had it pointed right at her. She sat on the bed and said, “go ahead and shoot me.” I was in the doorway behind him and I said something to the effect “you leave my Mom alone.” He turned and looked at me and my older sister was standing behind me and she grabbed me and pulled me back into our bedroom. He left and went downstairs and passed out on the couch.
There are so many stories like this; so many I could write one after another.
Lord, rid me of all these terrible feelings about my Dad. I truly loved him and saw good in him, he had a good side too, but that’s when he was sober, and in a good mood. That’s if he wasn’t dealing with some of the pain he had from injuries in the coal mine. He hurt his back more than once, and had surgeries for it, but he was still in pain a lot. But, that didn’t excuse the way he treated Mom and us three girls. I was the only one (including Mom) that would stand up to him. Mom just took it. Her life was pathetic. I can see that now, that I’m much older, but I still don’t understand why she put up with it.
Lord, clear my body and my mind of this hurt. Just let me see only the good in how they tried, with the little education and knowledge they had. Let me have you as my Heavenly Father with not relating it to my earthly father.
My Heavenly Father, my Dad wasn’t what I needed him to be, but I understand he done the best he knew how. I truly loved him and forgave him before he died for all the mean, hateful, stupid things he done to me. He didn’t give me the tender, loving care a little girl needs from a Dad, so I need you my Lord to put that in my body from you, being my Heavenly Father, I need your protection, your love, I need to count on you 100% and I know I can get that from you, but break down the bearers my Dad put there, break the walls I put up to protect myself from men in general. Break down the way I look upon a man—any man, that my Dad instilled in me. Let not another man on this earth ridicule or make fun of me Lord, slice his tongue before it comes out. My Heavenly Father, protect my son, from being like his grandfather, block that inheritance that I see coming through. Make him a man of God to raise those three babies as Christians, move in his life Lord as a real thunder especially with the boys, Don’t let him ridicule his wife like I see him do, it’s my Dad all over again.
I pray you do not let it effect me in a negative way when someone makes fun of how fat I am, or how I look. Lord, give me the strength to quit smoking forever and lose weight and make my body healthy and beautiful. I’ve wanted to be slim and beautiful all my life and most of all have people respect me as a person. Treat me with respect and not make fun of me.
(Darcie’s closing prayer:)
Father God I praise you and Father I love You with my whole soul. Please open my eyes where I am connecting my earthly father to You and condemn and block that from my mind. I want a clean, loving brain when it comes to you and depending on you and your care of me. Come away from any unclean thing in my life with my earthly father and turn and trust in Father God, and I do, and He will be my Father and my guide. Amen.