The struggle between good and evil

Our father did not know what to talk about to us, did not know what to say or do something pleasant for us. His patience always lasted only for a few days. I saw how patiently he answered our children’s questions for about a week. That’s a given. It is necessary to endure and show feigned gratitude for such a hearty gift. When more than one week had passed, our father admired and triumphed that feigned love had become a thing of the past and he no longer needed to simulate this pretended love. Now he was completely free. He returned to selfishness, anger, irritation, psychosis, rage, swear words, humiliation, resentment, pride and to his drinks. Father also rarely said: “I get tired at work, so let me alone.” But what does work, fatigue and other hardships have to do with, if love breathes always and everywhere.

When my younger brother was taken ill and got to the hospital, our family hurled all efforts to help our Artem. Only our father did not show any initiative. He just stood with unhappy face and embarrassment and did not want to say a couple of affectionate words to his sick son. Our Artem recovered after some time, and he was discharged from the hospital and returned home. But our home without the father’s love does not look like a home. Our father lived in his own world, in a world of irritation, anger, rejection, constant resentment and humiliation.

What did our father feel when we were born? Of course, when our father was a little younger, he said: “My children got sick. And I’m their father! I will assemble all my internal powers and I will come to their room to embrace them, give them some medicines, and put my hand on their diseased body parts. I have to go to them. They are my own children!” But to our great regret, our father got squint to egoism, anger, endless psychosis, blindness, humiliation, resentment, pride and endless irritation. And a few years later, my father’s heart said: “Do not disturb me, and get out! I’m tired at work! It makes me furious! Get out of my way!!”

Our dad is a tough cookie and intolerable person. When my mother married him, she did not suspect that he would be like that. She always told us: “Our father was so tough when I married him. He became like that over time. And at first every man is normal!”.

Our dad had one friend whom he constantly listened to more than our mother. But this very friend later got into prison for some machinations with money. His friend was not able to present at the funeral of his father, because he was in prison. Only our father was at the funeral. His friend’s mother asked him: “Why did you allow your friend to go to jail and not see his father for the last time? Why?” But our father just stood and looked blank. He did not understand that one had to live with reason in his head. Our father knew that his friend was engaged in something illegal, but because of his indifference and stupidity, he did not tell his friend to stop. Our dad felt good being in an alcoholic delirium with his friend. But our father still considered himself the most intelligent person and considered his life normal, smirking and proudly being extolled before other people. Surprisingly he opened his eyes so wide when his friend’s mother told him, that probably there was a dry seed of reason gave a small green sprout in the head of our father. But will our father change? Will he be able to turn from the stupid into the intelligent one, from the spiteful and irritable to the loving and humble?

My mother also told me that when our father was young, he courted to her very nice and tried to look like a kind, intelligent and strong person. And then he was not that at all. When he achieved his goal, and our mother became his wife, my father relaxed and his inner evil, impatience, humiliation and psychosis merged into their relationship.

My parents often brawled and sorted out their relationships. I heard what they were arguing about and screaming at each other. Once I saw two small children who were quarreling with each other, unless it could be called a quarrel. One boy was 3,5 years old, the second one was only ten months. The elder brother pushed the younger and swore at him for grabbing his clothes and preventing play with toys. He tried to explain something to his little brother, and said, “Why did you touch me, don’t you see that I’m playing with toys, and you hinder me to play!” These guys did not understand each other, as well as my parents, due to the fact that no one wanted to stop the quarrel. While quarrelling they told each other insulting words. Loads of wicked and sarcastic expressions were composed in their minds. Each of them recalled the most evil moments of past quarrels. These arguments were similar to the evil game “who wins”. I towered above it all, because I knew that such quarrels should not exist at all. My parents had to be above it all, as well as all adults above the quarrels of young children. So, after a while, acquiring a taste, our father started to abuse me and Artem.

Of course – a man has two natures. He knows both evil and good. But you always need to speak and to do only good things. But still, not everyone chooses good… For all his life a person makes a nest of goodness, reason, love, and another nest of sins, madness, anger, irritability, grumpy discontent, drunkenness and psychosis.

I remember once I was riding on a bus and there were two little boys in front of me. One of them said: “It’s great that your father is so kind. My dad is not like that at all, so, let’s go to your place to play.” These words wounded me, because I immediately remembered how my brother and I talked the same about my father. Many fathers could immerse themselves in the worlds of their children and could listen to them with joy and love in their eyes. They could hear the story of how the dandelion was ripped off, a frog was caught or an earthworm was found. But some fathers did not like to communicate with their children, and they did not like to play with them and did not like to teach them. They simply did not have love in their hearts.

I remember once our father broke his leg and was unable to do many things by his own. Of course, he asked us about these things. We gladly did these things for our father, who had problems with movements. He looked somewhere to the side and said without anger: “Thank you, children.” We were happy with his words and the way he talked to us. My younger brother asked me: “Why our father has become kind, after he had broken his leg? Let his leg always be broken.”

I was sorry for my brother, because he needed his father’s love. I tried my best to love for two. I tried to love for myself and for my father. My brother still feels a lack of love. When he was fourteen years old, he had some troubles with breathing. It was hard for him to breathe. He told me that as if some kind of lump in throat rolls to his chest, strains it and prevents him from breathing. He developed vasomotor dyscrasia. I did everything I could to help him. I wanted my brother to breathe easily, and not snuffle with great anguish. Our father looked with anger at Artem and said: “Why are you breathing like this? You are therefore gasping for not breathing properly. How many times have I explained to you that you cannot breathe like this? You need to breathe properly and do not exhale completely all the air, so you are suffocating.” After a while, unable to stand it, our father said angrily: “What!? Do you check if you have enough air or not? That’s ridiculous!”

These words just destroyed me and my brother. These words helped us to understand one simple but very important thing. Our father did not have love. Once he rejected this love and was not looking for it. He put himself in irritation, anger and endless psychosis. A man without love is like a car that has no wheels. Even when we grew up, our father did not like to communicate with us. A telephone conversation looked something like this, “hello” and “goodbye”. A real conversation was similar to one by phone. Our father started to talk only when drinking any alcoholic beverage. But after a week of hard drinking, when he frayed all our nerves, he began to feel very ill, and talked about it to all their relatives, waiting for their pity. When he felt that he was not regretted, and expressed only grudge against his drunkenness, he was angry again and answered irritably: “Let me alone! I’m fed up with it!

When we grew up, our father almost never called us, because he did not want to communicate with his children. He liked to communicate with TV, drinking some alcoholic beverage and with other people in a drinking state. I do not remember that our father, at least once in our entire life, would embrace us and say how happy he is to be with us and that we can spend time together. There was no place for love in his heart. He was never afraid to offend us with words. He never apologized for anything and never asked for forgiveness. He had never admitted his guilt, even if there was something to blame him in. He could endlessly prove his rightness, proudly humiliating with rude words and causing insults. He always tried to scintillate with his mind before other people and loved when they told that he was a clever man. With all his might he tried to show his “sharp” mind to the first available and making sure that a person often makes mistakes, is not experienced enough or not yet an adult, he tried to humiliate, offend and exalt him.

But why do I talk so much about my father? Maybe it’s because I have not got enough love from him?! Maybe because my father is the most striking example of a man who has no love, but has the opposite?

Since Artem’s breathing had been in abnormal state for a long time, our mother was advised to take him to a psychologist. But the angry, irritable psychologist told our mother without restraining himself: “You brought your son to such a state with your care and overprotection. Therefore, he suffocates, because he is afraid to take the first steps, moving away from your care to adulthood. What have you done with him, mama?!”

As expected, our mother believed every word of this psychologist. When they returned from the hospital, I asked my mother to tell me what the psychologist had told them, and, of course, I was very shocked and saddened from the story I’ve heard. For some reason, this psychologist decided that Artem, who was raised by our mother in love, care and protection, came out, as the psychologist hinted, “to the world of independence and evil,” and broke his spirit, which accordingly led him to emotional stress, and then to nervous disease. I knew that there are a lot of psychologists like that who do not know what they talk about or diagnose all by the same pattern, without going into the essence and problems of each person. I immediately saw the consequences of their visit to this psychologist. I saw that my mother stopped saying warm, laudatory words of love, kindness and gratitude. She stopped looking at Artem with a kind and loving eyes, and also stopped hugging him. A few days later, when Artem had a strong attack of oxygen shortage, my mother tried to show him warmth, caring and love, but as little as possible. Our mother thought then: “Here is my son lying and gasping. Maybe I should not approach him and say something, otherwise it will become a habit and then he will grow up as a nincompoop.” Our mother was presented with incorrect information, and as a result, she began to struggle with good deeds, warm words, a loving smile and merciful love in her mind. The words of the psychologist were deeply embedded in the mind of our mother, and without understanding the psychologist himself could convince “a little” our mother that love and good do only harm and do not prepare children for adulthood.

Curiously enough, but evil always wants to convince a person that it is the true norm of preparing children for real adulthood, and that love is an abnormal stupidity that maims life and leads to weakness, decline, embarrassment, restraint, insecurity, and to an infinite human condition, about which they would then say: “Between hay and grass!” It is interesting to know what this psychologist will say to his children, his spouse and his parents, if he knows that his relatives need to live only for several years, months or even days?! And whether he will be as angry and annoyed as he did in the presence of my relatives.

I know one family where the father once said: “There is nothing worse than bringing up children in love, care and kindness.” His son craved these things from his father every day. But the father, seeing a desire of his son, began to break these feelings and make a deviation in a completely different direction. When his wife began to hug and kiss him, her husband immediately interfered and said: “Less tenderness! You will spoil the guy, and he will grow up a molly and a mattress.”

One day a friend, who worked as a psychologist, came to visit them. When she came in the house and their son saw her, he immediately ran up to this woman and embraced her tightly. This lady also hugged the baby very strongly and asked him: “Do you like hugging? How wonderful it is! It’s necessary to hug you more often!” The baby’s father looked at his wife’s friend, feeling displeased. A second later their glances met and these people, looking at each other, realized that each of them had his own world in his head. One person had a world of love and good, and another person had a world of insanity, evil and wrong views of life. The father of this child was a sort of “brilliant” psychologist as well. But there are psychologists who follow in the footsteps of love and good, and also there are psychologists of stupidity and evil. Unfortunately, the father of that child was not a believer in love. This time this family faced with a good psychologist who knew that love in a person’s life should take a central place, from which any psychology begins. But of course the result of this attitude towards his son was obvious. For several years, little Roma had not felt loved, but on the contrary, felt rejected and lonely. But of course when he grew up, it was out of the question to talk about a simple warm conversation with his father. His father was somewhere deep in his anger, irritation, psychosis, blind wrong prejudices and baseless speculation, not realizing that love is power, life and victory.

Once my cousin got sick, and she had to visit one experienced intelligent psychologist. During the conversation, the psychologist, looking into my sister’s eyes, said: “Sometimes people get sick, because they do not know how to love. They learn to be humble and learn to love through their illnesses!” My cousin had been thinking for a long time what all this means is the phrase “learn to be humble and love.” She was not patient and was not afraid of offending anyone. There were no prohibitions and decrees for it. Buying things in the store, she could express to the seller everything she wanted in any situation, completely not caring what a person feels at the same time. In fact, my sister was always dissatisfied with something, was very touchy and like the fire kindled every little quarrel.

Once, when she was sitting with her friends and boasting how she could offend other people in a quarrel, her friend told her: “Me and Alexei never quarrel and do not offend each other.” My sister screwed up her eyes and lighted a cigarette, grinned and said in response: “You are boring.” Frankly, after examining my cousin, it became clear that she imitates almost all negative acts and habits. When she saw people with various physical disabilities in arms, legs, or the whole body, she made a squeamish face and said: “How terrible and disgusting they are. I cannot stand them!” My cousin did not understand many things, but she rejected many things from herself. She was very fond of giving out her advices to everyone, and for some reason she was sure that they were always right. She liked to teach people how they should live, believing for some reason that other adults’ lives were not right. But people who understood life better than she, listening to her advice and recommendations, often said in their minds: “What a stupid girl! She does not understand what she says!”

The psychologist, whom she addressed to, could not help her because a psychologist-woman did not know how to teach her to love. She simply did not know how to evoke a response from my obstinate, spiritually blind, pompous, psychotic sister. My cousin was expecting a magic pill from the psychologist, which was supposed to heal her, but she could not keep her ears open to the advice of an experienced psychologist because of not being adult enough, as well as having lack of inner inexperience, emptiness and because of incorrect psychological attitude to life.

When my sister left the hospital and saw one of the moms in the street gently embracing her son, she thought: “Oh! Children! They are intolerable. And why does she hug and embraces him on and on? Then he will grow into a worthless person.”

A few years ago, when we were walking with my sister along the street, and I helped one old lady to go upstairs with her bags, my cousin was very ashamed of this, and walked a few steps away from me, as if she was not familiar with me. Several years have passed since that moment, but nothing has changed. Katya, my sister, is still ashamed of the good and is not ashamed of stupid pride, insane anger, cruelty, extreme immorality and the lowest offenses. When my sister offends a person, she feels pleasure. This pleasure is like enjoying the reception of the most delicious food in the world. Now my sister is sick and wants to be healed of her illness very much. She is suffering. Maybe the illness can change my sister. After all, the people who were offended by her were even more afflicted. Two years ago, Katya became ill with the flu, which caused complications, as a result of which she had been suffering for about three months. After the illness it was possible to communicate pleasantly with Katya for about a month. After the illness, she became a completely different person. But after a while she returned to her former malicious, irritable, proud, touchy state. And a year ago she was very strongly bitten by an evil dog. And my sister became a little calmer again, more merciful, more harmless and a pleasant girl to communicate with. But after she got better again and started going to work, she returned to her former, angry, irritated, psychotic state. That change occurred right before my eyes. Every evening she came from work completely different. Probably it was not accidental that at work she had to communicate with people who did not like good and love. Accordingly, not having a love in her mind, my sister became like them after a short period of communicating with them. Only temporary suffering could stop her anger, grumbling and pride. Plus, my sister did not have any patience in herself. Once she reminded me my father, who once took Artem with him to build a garage. After a while, Artem asked his father to put a small piece of the wall on his own. Father let Artem do it. When Artem laid the first brick, and then the other, our father began to get irritated, as it was not satiscompany. Father began to scold him and offend unacceptably, and then, our father said to him: “You are a stupid fool!” He snatched a float from Artem’s hands, removed the crooked bricks that Artem had laid and, looking at Artem with an angry glance, shook his head and said: “Give a float to me, step aside and stay out of it! You are cack-handed. Can’t you see that the bricks lie hitchy? You’re completely blind!”

Artem, seeing his angry father, took a couple of steps back and, clutching his heel against the bricks, fell to the ground with his back and hit his head. Fortunately, the earth was not very tight and the headache passed in a few minutes. When Artem fell to the ground, he could not imagine that a metal pin was protruded in two centimeters from his head. Our father looked at Artem and on the protruding pin, and said irritably: “Look where you go.” Of course, our father did not even think about his son’s safety, without mentioning love for him. I remember how my father beat Artem in childhood. I cannot say that these beatings were ruthless and necessary for the upbringing with punishments. It was rather like a mad expulsion of one’s anger. Because, when somebody punishes a child, he/she does not beat with all the might on the nape, biting his/her lower lip from mental sadistic pleasure. And as a result, after such attacks on the head, children see sparks in their heads or fly off and strike at anything with their bodies. So, this happened once with Artem, and as a result he had a small scar left on the nape, for which he was pissed off as “a piggy bank” at the school.

Once I was told a similar story: “One man took a five-year-old son to work in the garden. Parents had to plant potatoes. Father was constantly talking about this potato. He used to sit for hours thinking about where to put it, where and how much to plant. This father often suddenly started talking about this potato and mixing psychosis, anger and irritation said: “And what is that you will eat in the winter?! Is it dry pasta?!” When they arrived at the cottage and laid out the potatoes, his little son began to throw potatoes in different directions. The father warned his child and told him: “If you once again throw potatoes somewhere, I will punish you for it!” His son stayed still almost five minutes. But then he took the potato again and threw it into the nearby vegetable garden. His father full of anger ran to his son, took him by the hand, set his teeth, pressed his lower lip and flung him aside. The child fell to the ground and hit his head on a sharp, medium-sized cobblestone, inconspicuous lying in the grass. Because of craniocerebral injury the child remained disabled for the rest of his life. His father has learned to love his son; he has been courting for him about ten years. Now this man tells other people that love is something that people can forget about and forever erase from their lives. He says that people need to remove irritation, hatred and anger from their hearts forever and settle attracting merciful love there. This man was like a former alcoholic who brought his body to a very serious illness because of drinking but now after suffering, having stopped drinking a person tells other people that they should also forget once and for all what drinking is. They should forget once and for all what beer, champagne and other alcoholic beverages are. Now this man was 100% sure that ten years ago he acted very badly. He gave way to insane anger, irritation, psychosis and made an irreparable mistake in his life, which he regrets every day and night. Almost every day this man sitting at night beside his son weeps bitterly. This man once said: “My father also did not understand what is most important in this life. I remember how he ran after me through the garden because we trampled as he said a beautiful berry bushes. I remember how I ran away from my father, stumbled and fell on the path of bricks, I rubbed my face, hands and knees, they were bleeding. Of course, my father did not come to me and did not comfort me. He also did not wash me from the blood on my knees and face. My mom came out into the street, she embraced me and led me home to debride my wound. My father at this time turned around and went to restore the trampled berry bush. After the father revived the bush, constantly speaking in his beard, he went to hug our dog, then he quietly went to the chickens, whispering to them: “Do not be afraid, do not be afraid, everything’s fine.” Then he called his friend and for a few minutes, with a smile on his face, talked with him very pleasantly. My father loved everything and everyone around me, except me. When I went out into the street and caught my father’s eye, my father began to grind his teeth and be angry with me. His eyes irradiated anger to me, like my eyes, until a certain moment in my life, radiating anger and irritation to my own little son. I would gladly swap places with my son. I’d rather be disabled, but not my son. That’s what happens when you do not love your children! Nothing would have happened if I had allowed him to scatter these several potatoes around.” Now this man is not annoyed at all by his son. Now he loves him. I remember that my brother Artem said: “I’m happy to help our father, but my father constantly offends us. He is constantly annoyed and angry with us! He constantly offends me. He always scowls at me. Our father is an evil person!”

Artem always said that his father offended not him, but us, since he did not even want to think that his father offended only him, and not both of us. Speaking of the fact that his father offended “us,” Artem felt less alone.