So my Dad lost it last night. He's been having issues recently with a tooth of his, possibly one that's got some kind of cap on it, I'm not sure. Either way, it fell out last night while he was in his lounge chair and went down the side of the chair. I was in the room when it happened and Dad's first reaction was to try and get the tooth back.
It stayed his only reaction for nearly an hour and a half. He turned the chair upside down and sideways; checked out the bin beside the lounge and then turned the chair upside down again. And then he felt inside the lounge again.
That's not the worst of it. Dad basically got within minutes of ripping apart our lounge chair in search of this tiny, tiny tooth. My brother was at work but Mum and I were recruited into helping - despite me being busy working on an essay I just submitted. At one point I escaped the room to take the garbage out and got caught up taking the neighbour's dog home so that took nearly twenty minutes. I came back to them still looking. Dad was completely losing it, calling himself all kinds of names and basically thinking he's the worst person alive for losing a tooth. It was definitely an overreaction and both Mum and I were upset -Mum at the fact Dad was willing to destroy our lounge chair; me because everyone else was upset and that tends to make me feel the same. I was also upset because some of the things Dad was saying about himself were awful and I just do not like hearing him talk like that. I cannot handle conflict really.
Eventually Mum and I managed to convince Dad to give up, though not with words but with lack of helpful action. We settled back into our places and wouldn't you know it? Dad found the damned tooth an hour later, somewhere in the lounge.
But that's all background. I found out today, from Mum, that Dad thought I was scared of him last night. See, like I said, I can't handle conflict, especially anger. And my answer to conflict is to remove myself from it. I remember a time in high school that I had a fight with a good friend - my only fight with her in memory- and as soon as I realised being angry was making me cry I removed myself from the situation and hid in a bathroom to cry myself out. I do not like to be present when someone is getting angry and I can't help. Especially not my parents.
So removing myself has nothing to do with being scared of the person who is angry but is my natural reaction to someone being angry. Last night I was not scared of Dad, just upset at his reaction.
And I started thinking. And I realised I've never been scared of my Dad. I mean, I've been scared of his reaction in that I feared the consequences he was going to give me for actions I've done but I've never feared for my safety when he's been present- even when angry, I know he won't hurt me though I'm not fond of being yelled at by him. Which is what I think he thinks I was scared of. He's apologised for his actions last night and I tried to make sure he realises I understood and wasn't scared but I don't know if it was clear.
But the idea that he could ever think I feared him is as upsetting a thought as the memory of his overreaction last night was. I don't want him to think I'm scared of him, he's one of the kindest men I know (with some of the worst politics around but no one is perfect) and I know how much he beats himself up over things. But I just do not have the words to reassure him, especially as I'm not sure he knows, I know what he told Mum about thinking I might be scared of him.
It's a bit of a mess really.
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