I want to go and see my dying mum – but my dad won’t let me

The Independent’s agony aunt Victoria Richards is here to help. Email dearvix@independent.co.uk for advice on love, work, family and relationships

Julianne Moore in ‘Still Alice’ (Sony Pictures Classics)

Dear Vix,

My mum is dying. That’s not unusual (I’m in my late forties), but she has the sort of terminal illness everyone dreads –and it is happening quickly. We didn’t get on well when I was young – social services were called out by school a few times due to neglect – but we have worked it through. I have forgiven her. Dad, however, is a different kettle of fish altogether.

He was physically and mentally violent towards both Mum and me. I tried to get her out of there on many occasions but she always refused. She lied to medical staff and social services to protect him over me when I was a child. I never see him now without my husband or an adult relative with me, as he can still be verbally abusive if I am alone. The trouble is: Mum can’t speak or type now, so Dad is gatekeeping everything. At the moment, my requests to see her are being ignored.

I feel like absolute rubbish and like I’m letting Mum down. I want to see her but I desperately don’t want to be alone when I see Dad (last time he was very aggressive). I have Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy booked in 18 months, so that might help me deal with those situations – but Mum won’t be around, then. Nobody in my family really understands, and they judge me for not going round there. My friends are very much of the opinion that, “at least you still have your parents, you’re lucky”. I wish it were that simple!

I don’t know what Mum really thinks or feels; she just says, “It’s fine, we understand” when I apologise for being absent. But I feel torn. How do I maintain a relationship with my mum when I can’t stand seeing my dad?

Guilty Child

Dear Guilty Child,

I’d like to take those feelings of guilt away from you, because you don’t deserve them. They don’t belong to you. If anyone deserves to feel guilty, it’s your dad. And that’s why it strikes me that your sign-off – that you “can’t stand” seeing your dad, needs to be reframed a bit. It’s not that you’re “choosing” not to see him (and therefore, your mum); it’s not even that you “don’t like” seeing him. The truth is: it’s too dangerous for you to see him. Because he is abusive (and here, for ease, are some of the signs).

That’s the truth, whether or not anyone on the outside (your friends, even your siblings) appreciates it. The stakes have never been higher for you. Seeing your dad puts you at risk – not only does it take you back to being an innocent, helpless child who was neglected and harmed, but it maintains the abuse.

Research shows that verbal abuse of children can be as damaging to their mental health in adulthood as physical abuse: a study of more than 20,000 adults in England and Wales found that people exposed to verbal abuse in childhood were likely to feel disconnected, pessimistic and emotionally unwell in later life (and being exposed to both types of abuse compounds the risk even further).

It’s awful – and even more so, because the abuse hasn’t stopped. Your father is continuing to target you, in adulthood, in two ways: he’s doing it verbally (and it’s very telling that he only does it when you are alone, so there are no other witnesses) – and in refusing you access to your mum. That, itself, is an abusive act – for both of you. Especially when your mum is now so ill. It’s also very important that if you think your mum is in danger at home, please call 101 for advice (you can also report incidents of domestic abuse online).

Your dad sounds like a deeply troubled, cruel, potentially narcissistic person and I’m very sorry you had to grow up with a father like that. I’m also sorry that you feel so alone in dealing with him, even now. Our personal (and family) histories are incredibly intricate and when abuse isn’t only physical, it can be very hard to explain it to anyone who hasn’t been through it themselves. Trying to tell someone you’ve been at the receiving end of coercive control, for example, can leave you feeling frustrated and – ultimately – disbelieved.

As for what to do about this situation, I am afraid I think the easiest way would still be to involve someone else, as I don’t believe it is safe for you (physically, emotionally or psychologically) to visit your parents by yourself. Could you go with a trusted friend, rather than a family member – if you find it difficult to get them on your side? Can you think of anyone who listens properly and supports you?

Perhaps your husband and children are too close – I had to abridge your letter for brevity, but you included several reasons why you feel they don’t always believe what you’re saying, which suggests to me that you need an objective (and sympathetic) ear.

Once you have a wingman or wingwoman, they can act as an independent witness, noticing the ways in which your dad treats you. That should help you accept your own lack of blame in this – you are a victim, not a perpetrator. There simply isn’t any way you are “letting your mum down”. You are not at fault. Your dad is.

Taking someone with you also places a boundary or barrier between you and your father. And, once you’ve chosen a person you trust, take your time and try to tell them what your childhood was really like. Then, when you feel strong enough, you can just “turn up” at the house, as you originally floated, with them by your side. Your dad won’t be able to gatekeep when you ring on the door spontaneously. Abusers thrive on secrecy, silence – and they like to use fear as power. It’s time to take some of that power away.

I would really like you not to wait 18 months for EMDR (which, by all accounts, is very effective), but to try and get some more counselling as soon as possible, to help you through these difficult months coming up.

Losing a parent is a tremendous grief all of its own – but you’re also having to grapple with a lifetime of ill treatment at the hands of your father. It’s no mean feat and my heart goes out to you. I’d start by going to your GP and asking for some support. You can also contact the National Domestic Abuse Helpline, run by Refuge, on 0808 2000 247, for free at any time, day or night.

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