Well done, dickhead. Australian proverb. Was my dad’s favourite saying. Might still be. He used it mostly when driving. Like say, if someone cut him off in traffic, or didn’t use their indicator, he’d yell, ‘well done, dickhead,’ out the window. If he could. If they weren’t within range of his booming voice, he’d say it anyway. Because, you know, it had to be said.

Oh yes, it was completely a sarcastic jibe. Not one you’d ever want to be at the end of. Sometimes it was dad’s players at the receiving end of a “well done, dickhead.” Which was when they knew they were doing a shit job.

For the record — I never actually call my dad, Dad. To be honest I don’t refer to him at all. Is probably why am spitefully refusing to use a capital ‘d’. We’re not exactly on speaking terms. Yet mentioning his name might give the game away. See, I’m trying to be anonymous.

Have been through quite the ordeal, really. Ten years of it. Am not exactly in the position to head off to therapy — while I no longer believe everything that has been indoctrinated in me, it’s still hard to take that step, you know?

From a young age I’ve always had writing. Was my go-to pastime when things got tough. It’s why I’m turning to it now — both a blessed relief and desperate need to purge.

Still in slight precarious position, mind, so won’t be revealing any names. Even my own.

Am a little embarrassed, really. Think everyone who has been sucked into a cult has that same feeling of humiliation. Which makes me a complete dickhead.

But then, I did get out. I didn’t drink the Kool-aid.

Well done, dickhead, well done.


18 thoughts on “well done, dickhead

  1. Your post is tantalisingly vague, yet conjures vivid images. It is interesting how writing seems to offer people a chance to download their burdens, a chance to purge as you say. I certainly remember some of the first things I wrote being very personal. It always seemed to be its own kind of therapy.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ok. I laughed out loud. I remember one time my Dad was driving home from work at lunchtime (I was working with him for the summer, during the school holidays), and somebody cut him up at a road junction – he skidded the car, then shouted the best collection of swear words I had ever heard in the general direction of the other car.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I know this man hurt you, but this is such a vivid character sketch that I had a good belly laugh over your dad’s catch-phrase.

    My sons still talk about the day my husband shouted “You Turtle-Fuck” to another driver. These are the things that we remember, I suppose.


  4. Hi ADKA, I enjoyed this post & am still trying to figure out how to get on other’s sites in WordPress – no idea how people “find” me…

    I know that often writers are in the throes of an event when they take pen to paper. You may or not still be “re-solving” family stuff, but I hope you don’t mind my throwing in my thoughts here.

    About “parentings.” Once upon a time a friend said my family had never been together before (discussing reincarnation.) Said we just all joined up together to work out certain emotional quandaries. It fit well: I hardly related to my Mom, my brother was of a crucial three-year difference in age (freshman/senior), and my sisters were ten years & older than I…I have seldom said “I love you” to any of them with a true heart. It’s a kind of placeholder phrase.

    Parents deliver the first wound. While it isn’t easy to get over, time & aging does help. After many years, it just simplified my emotional life enormously to find I was able to let go of the tangled web & walk free of family fetters. I was able to sieve off the emotional aspects & attain distance.

    Now if I say the three words, I can consider them coming out of my mouth & check to see if they’re connected to my heart. This gentle distancing of let-go gave them the freedom to acknowledge my new wholeness & released me from emo-pain if they did not do so.

    If I may offer, love them as you can – find something lovable – my mom had a wicked sense of humor, my brother became lovable to me when he had to depend on me in an embarrassing family situation, my one sister never quite caught on, but she was 16 years older & a whole ‘nother generation. My other sister actually thinks she understands me & I just go along with it, not having the energy to do otherwise. This last sib is my only surviving one.

    Writing is the most effective release you will find, if that’s your go-to. You can scream on paper, set fire to people on paper, hate on paper, desire on paper & it is most amazing when the energy surrounding all of these morphs into finding out how to love them … on paper.

    Good luck to you with all of it. Distant or close, family has your DNA & you’re intermingled. It can be so much easier to go with that flow, even if only along the edges of the stream.

    This has reminded me of another talk; I plan to post it soon. Watch for “All My Relations”.

    Best to ya –


  5. Great opening! Why is it we Australians have the driest wit? Especially in the darkest situations.
    Looking forward to reading more as you tease the threads out. I’m with VJ – it’s worth it, you’re worth it.
    And congratulations on getting out 😀


    1. You are very kind. To be honest I’m not even sure where to begin with all of this – everything is still confused and jumbled in my mind. Am sure with time I’ll be able to peel back each layer of myself, learn more about who I am, and find the courage to talk about my histories. Thanks for reading. It means a lot to know I’m not alone in all of this.

      Liked by 2 people

  6. Welcome to those who get out. After being in a cult for 15 years and leaving, I had many, many days thinking ‘how could I have been so stupid…’. Feel free to check out my blog for relating articles and would leave to hear the story.

    Sally, the koolaid reference is a common term when referring to cults. It’s popularized by the People’s Temple cult in which leader Jim.Jones convinced over 900 people to drink poison laced koolaid in mass suicide.

    Liked by 1 person

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