By Katie Matthews
Katie's stories of her formative years have been patchy. She'd consistently remembered her father's actual abuse, his anger and violence. yet there has been much she had forgotten. And, on the age of 24, after the beginning of her son, the thoughts that have been progressively unlocked with assistance from a psychiatrist have been way more negative. Katie had grown up dwelling in worry. She'd by no means forgotten the icy coldness that used to unfold via each vein in her physique whenever her father grabbed her approximately via the arm, or punched and kicked her mom. Or the social gathering while she used to be three and he'd locked her in a bed room for a whole weekend, with out meals or water. Or the evening while he'd introduced domestic a tender lady he'd met at a bar, pushing her mom down the steps while she dared to bitch after which locking mom and daughter out within the snow, dressed basically of their nightdresses. there have been many, many incidents of violence and cruelty that Katie had by no means forgotten. but if she began a family members of her personal, and started to work out a psychiatrist to aid her take care of the debilitating post-natal melancholy she used to be ache, she was once pressured to keep in mind thoughts that have been much more scary. stories of the sexual abuse her father had subjected her to from the age of three, which her brain had locked away for over two decades. And stories of the entire different terrible incidents from her adolescence that she'd dared now not keep in mind until eventually then. through the months that Katie remained within the psychiatric health facility, the locked doorways in her brain progressively opened, liberating the trauma from her earlier and at last permitting her to begin to appreciate the cause of her self-disgust. this is often Katie's tale -- the occasionally harrowing yet finally inspiring actual tale of her trip as she involves phrases with thoughts too painful to recollect yet very unlikely to overlook.
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Extra resources for I Remember, Daddy: The harrowing true story of a daughter haunted by memories too terrible to forget
My parents left me and my brother with a babysitter and went out to a dinner-dance. It was an event that was linked in some way to my father’s business and he was fussing and shouting even before they left the house. Despite being bullied and constantly told to hurry up, my mother always looked beautiful when she was dressed up to go out in the evening, and I used to love the light, flowery smell of perfume that lingered in my bedroom for a while after she’d come in to say goodnight. It was winter and snowing again, and on the way back from the dinner my father was driving slowly through the deserted, snow-covered lanes when he got angry about something and started to shout at my mother.
My whole body seemed heavy, and as I reached out my hand to try to steady myself on the reception desk, everything around me faded to blackness and I dropped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. I don’t know how long I’d been lying on the floor before I opened my eyes and saw the blurred image of Jackie’s anxious face. She was leaning over me and her lips were moving, although all I could hear was the loud pulsing of blood in my head. I tried to sit up, but a firm hand on my shoulder pushed me gently down again, and then a voice that wasn’t Jackie’s said, ‘Don’t try to get up, Katie.
Some people were regarding him with open admiration, and some were watching him with expressions of hostile disapproval at the loudness of his self-assurance. But it was clear that all of them were impressed, despite themselves. ‘We’ve decided to call him Sam,’ I told my father, reaching out to place a subconsciously protective hand on the cot beside the bed. ’ My father almost spat out the word in disgust. ‘What sort of a name is Sam for Christ’s sake? It’s a fucking dog’s name. I thought you’d call him Harold, after me and after my father.