Horrible, Awful Father...

This post was originally posted on January 19th, 2012. It was removed by me because I was afraid that Harry would read this before I was ready for him to see I told the whole world. Now I re-post this forever for the world to see just what a truly sick, horrible, 

evil awful man he really is.

They say you get stronger in the broken places

When you lean into the crisis that your facing

In your weakness your made strong...

Father- Traditionally, fathers act in a protective, supportive and responsible way towards their children.

Martin Luther King Day-Monday, January 15, 1990 my beloved DADDY, Jim Blake died. I was devastated as he was my whole world. He was my best friend, my confidant and the best DADDY in the world. We had our disagreements like any other father and daughter relationship would have. But my DADDY wanted me and understood me because he was adopted too. He left my world and my life way too soon and a void in my heart.

They say when you’ve fallen off a horse

The first thing you gotta do of course is

Climb right back on…

After Jim died I didn’t want to find my birth father. I never imagined that anyone could possibly be anything like the father I had growing up. I postponed finding my birth father Harry out of respect for my DADDY, Jim. In 2004, I finally decided to look for Harry and made contact with him on my 39^th birthday. I was thrilled and excited that I had found him and actually talked to him on the phone. My birth mother had told me he was a horrible man. One of the reasons why I waited so long to find him was I was not sure I wanted to inflict him on my family.

I have always felt like I didn’t fit in anywhere. In finding my birth mother I still had so many unanswered questions that I felt I needed to search more. When I met Harry and his wife Lola in 2005 I thought I had finally found all the answers. I fit in with him and the bond was almost immediate. The connection as very strong, almost like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was not long before I realized that Harry and I were very much alike in many different areas of our personalities. I thought finally I had all the answers. As we talked more and more our relationship grew and I began to call him DADDY.

Harry has lots of money and a good name in the small community he lives in. He has been married to the same woman for nearly 51 years despite the numerous affairs he has had on her. I was able to overlook this and some many other small things that are actually not quite right because I loved him and I thought he loved me.

I enjoyed the times that Harry and I spent together and all the special memories I thought we made. He is the perfect manipulator, conniver and downright liar. He manages to lie to everyone in his life and pretend everything is just fine with him. Harry is very good at hiding his secret life and ideas. No one around him suspects this kind and gentle older man could be so downright evil and sick. He managed to shatter every ounce of respect I could ever have for him.

I’m a, I’m a fighter

I must admit I didn’t see it coming now face to face

And baby I ain’t running

I won’t do that anymore

Cause I’m a fighter…

Harry and Lola come for a visit every January on their way to San Diego. In the past these have been very good visits and many fun times were had by everyone. I also made a couple trips to visit him and his wife. In January 2010 (he made the trip alone because his wife was already in California) when I just beginning the grieving process and was at one of my weakest points Harry pounced and made his move. He told me that he loved me more than anyone could…maybe more than he should but he didn’t think so. He then proceeded to tell me he wanted to hold me, love me and help me grieve. He wanted to take me to a hotel. He said he loved me, he probably loved me too much but he didn’t think so.

I had a talk with him and explained that I had lost Heather, he was my father and I didn’t want to lose him too. I thought he understood. I flew up in May of 2010 with no issues and then he came for a visit in January 2011 and there were no issues again. I figured he got the hint and had dropped the whole idea of having sex with me. Boy was I wrong…

Harry arrived on Sunday and everything was just fine. His wife Lola was staying with her cousin in Apache Junction. I thought it was weird that he had stayed day and night with us. But welcomed him into my home once again just like all the times before. Monday night after everyone went to bed, Harry came back down to tell me he had a problem. He began to rub his hard penis on my leg through his pajamas. I pulled away from him and he told me he just wanted to show me what I do to him. Then he went back to bed. Tuesday morning I was awakened by my father stroking my face and kissing my lips and my neck, I was trying to get awake as he pulled the covers to my bed to crawl in bed with me. I told him NO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!...he stopped and questioned me, no? this isn’t happening? I said NO! and he left. Final attempt was on Wednesday when he told me he wanted me to go to a motel with him and stay the afternoon and the night. He had packed a bag and his overnight stuff and put it in his car in preparation for me to go with him. Again I refused and said NO!

After every event that happened I had a long face to face talk with my father and told him I did not want to have sex with him. I did not think of him that way and he was my father not my lover. Each time I figured he understood and I thought we were fine till the next time and the next time. After the motel thing everything seemed to settle down and he quit trying to molest me. I knew I had to tell my family but I just wanted to survive his visit and then figure out what I do after. I was trying to save my relationship with my father. But, I realized when he made a move to kiss me on Sunday night that I was never going to be free from him. He was never going to leave me alone. NEVER. He would keep trying more and more things. I had to end this.

Last photo ever to be taken of me and Harry-he ruined everything forever!!

Sunday night I wrote a 12 page letter to Harry to explain my feelings, how he victimized and abused me and that he would never do it again. I did not know what I would do with the letter, read it to him or give it to him, but I explained that if he crossed any line again I would tell and tell everyone. Monday morning Harry told me he was hurt and rejected by me turning my face and not allowing him to kiss my lips. I went and got my letter and read it to him. He said nothing. NOTHING. I talked about incest, and how he was not better than the men that molested me when I was 4 and 9 yrs old. Again he said nothing. I got in his face about a couple things and he would not make eye contact with me and said nothing. He got up, got his coat and left. He left for good without saying a word. He is playing the victim here.

And I'm done hoping we can work it out
I'm done with how it feels
Spinning my wheels
Letting you drag my heart around
And, ohh, I'm done thinking you could ever change
I know my heart will never be the same
But I'm telling myself I'll be OK
Even on my weakest days
I get a little bit stronger…

I locked the door, called my family home and fell apart emotionally and physically as I told them about what had been going on. I am 46 years old and I am afraid to wall in the mall alone, I am taking Ativan to help with all the anxiety I have, I am going to counseling, my heart races to the point I think I am going to have a heart attack and I feel very venerable and victimized by a man who was supposed to be my father. He told me he didn’t raise me, he met me as an adult so it was different, told me this would be my 100% commitment to him and I didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant he was fixed and had no diseases. OMG!!! You are my FATHER!!! MY FATHER!!!

I never want to see or speak to Harry again. My Daddy will forever be Jim Blake, the only Daddy I ever had. What is so ironic about this whole thing is Monday, was Martin Luther King Day, 22 years after Jim died.

I took a huge step and got rid of that stupid Camaro. It made me sick to look at it. It was a bribe car to shut me up and keep me quiet. Well no more. I never have to see that stupid car again. I bought something that symbolizes me as a strong woman that will not be victimized again. I also changed the name. the only DOLYGRL in my world is MY DOLLY GIRL, Heather. The end. There will only be one Dolly Girl, My Dolly Girl, and I will never place her special name on a vehicle again.

It doesn't happen overnight, but you
Turn around and a month's gone by, and you
Realize you haven't cried
I'm not giving you an hour or a second 

or another minute longer
I'm busy getting stronger…