Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
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Hey, everybody, I know sometimes here we talk about the topic of how difficult it is when our trauma came from abusers in our own families. For some of us it was incest, for others like me it was weekly domestic violence. What compounded that for me was that the domestic violence went on behind the walls of our family home while outwardly my father was a pastor.
Eventually, the walls he hid his abuse behind broke down, though, and he abused church people like he abused his family. He then got kicked out of the church and for the rest of his life he has been exiled as a broken man who broke others. Unfortunately, even now he won't admit what he's done, and stews daily with more bitter rage toward all. I visited him to try to comfort him when he turned 80, but he hit me again then. I was 52 and his punch as an 80 didn't hurt me like it did when I was 15 and he was 43 and he bounced me off the walls with his fists. But it did estrange us, as I stayed away from then on for my own safety.
An old friend wrote me yesterday about her parent's funeral, and then brought up that I was estranged from mine. Since it was an old friend, I didn't defend my decision. I spoke of the consequences of my estrangement because of the worse consequences of my being with him. I also spoke of loving him even now, when I know he's not good for me.
When he dies I will mourn for him. But I'll mourn for me, too, and for the childhood I never had. Not many could understand that, but I think somebody else here might.
Does anybody else experience these ambivalent feelings of being sensible enough to stay away from abusive family but still having feelings for them, too?
Here's the email I sent my friend about it.
"From: an old friend
To: Muji
Subject: RE: parents
I'm very sorry for the continued estrangement from your family of origin. No matter how right it is for this boundary to exist, it's painful.
________________________________________
Thanks for noting that, my friend. I love them from a distance. If I get any closer it's like I get radiation sickness. I try to remember that the only thing worse than living with them is living as them. They are in constant psychic agony over lifetimes of issues they can't or won't address. They use fanaticism and aggression as escapism from them, but it's not effective enough as a vehicle for it. My choice of teaching literature in my first career as an escape was a better one, with many more centuries of good material for it.
And then I stopped escaping, changed careers, and faced it all, which I suppose is why I teach death and dying classes now. We teach what we want to learn, and when I teach Tuesdays with Morrie I'm reminded always of that by his aphorism, "when we learn to die, we learn to live."
I have grieved my estrangement from my parents in funerary fashion, but when and if they actually die I expect a special kind of grief will result from it. Mostly mourning a parental relationship that never was, not even when in touch with them, not even when a child in a home with them. I will have missed them in life before missing them in death.
Muji"
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I'm alive, I'm sleeping like a rock, and for some reason I wanted cherry juice so that seems to be helping. (??? Weirdo that I am.)***Infamous therapies over history:1. The Attic. The madwoman in the attic is a motif in literature going waaaaaay back: the nutty female relative is locked in the attic. (See: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte for a grotesquely racist version of it, and Charlotte Perkins...
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Welcome to the Perseid meteor showers, the "biggies" usually every year. (The Leonids beat 'em one year IMHO).AND today much of the northern hemisphere will see 5 to 99% solar eclipse. How cool is that? Your best bet is to be in the UK or norhtern Spain, where totality is excellent before sundown. Me, I'll get a super duper tiny itty bitty slice of it, so little that it won't be noticeable. New...
I just can't believe I'm free, just can't believe I'm free, just can't believe I'm free. I never have to see her again. I never have to hear her voice again. And I can Finally, not feel guilty in saying/feeling that.
In many ways it was like my marriage...I just can't "miss" what never was. My earliest memories are of me wanting my mother to hug/hold me, and her pushing me away. My next are of her forcing a hug on me...and telling me that I was a bad child for not wanting to be held. I'm 3 or younger in the memories because they're from the old house (my parents moved shortly after I turned 3).
(30 years ago, when my father died, I did mourn "what never was"...but that relationship although deeply flawed, was much cleaner. There were hints of "what might have been", and I was younger.)
On the plus side, after a spurt of nightmares, they seem to be getting further apart. At least that's what my daughter says (so great (sarc) when your kid tells you about how often you've cried out in your sleep...)
Yes, I also have confused feelings about my family of origin. I've only laid boundaries of no contact with my mother, but none of my family is incredibly helpful and I think there's still danger of abuse there. It's hard to also feel that it's running the cycle into my brother's lifestyle too. I'm only 24, but I'm certainly mourning a childhood I didn't have. I haven't had to face my mother in several years, but I miss her sometimes. It's been a few years, but sometimes if I'm sick or lonely I long to just hear her voice. Seems a silly thing that her voice can be a trigger sometimes and a comfort at other times.
The last line of your email resonates with me "I've missed them in life before missing them in death." It is unfortunate that our trauma was in the soil of our lives - the place where we should have been safe to establish roots and grow well.
Much support to you as you continue to grieve.
XF
Love Manda xx
that was their thing. hide behind god and the church and the bible. "spare the rod" became beat the crap out of the kid. my father was the type that was heavy handed and proud that his children feared him. the whole family was about keeping face. they ignored what went on behind the house walls, but they were in that pew every sunday. as i moved into adult hood and the abuse came to the surface all they did was insist i was not following god and that it all was my fault. my mother made all kind of excuses for my father.
so when i get asked by others won't you regret it if they die and you never talk to them again? no i won't. why? because every time the holidays come i am torn by the conflict of hoping they leave me alone/realizing i don't matter to them. every time a bible verse pops up in my social media feed i cringe where there should be joy. being socially and sexually awkward cause of flashbacks and triggers. nope i have no regrets over cutting my family out of my life. i have mourned my stolen childhood, i have grieved for the early adulthood PTSD took from me, and i am in a place of honesty/acceptance now. Karma will handle it from here.
i would like to add a little thing here... i've had very special people die in my life. i noticed a while back that i don't react to death like others do, i think. i've noticed that since i am so used to drastic change, abandonment, rejection, and general disconnection with the world, death of someone i care about doesn't seem so traumatic. thoughts?
Hugs and purrs.
Leo
I haven't seen my father in about 20 yrs. He tried to reach out to me a few months ago when he had a stroke (it was his 3rd stroke from what I've heard). He flooded my FB with messages and when I refused to respond or entertain him, he managed to find my personal email.
He is in a nursing home in poor health from what I understand. ANd he was asking for money in his emails.
To answer your question.... I'd rather keep that door closed than to allow any hurt and pain back into my life. Even if he can't physically hurt me anymore because he's half paralyzed, he has a way of playing mind games with you. I didn't want to give him that foothold. My older brother bought a plane ticket and went to see him for "closure", came home and said it was a wasted trip.
And about mourning.... When I was in the Marines I used to subscribe to car magazines (my MOS was motor transportation)... and every now and then an article used to pop up about father daughter projects. There would be a picture of a beautiful classic car they restored together. And my heart would ache and I would catch myself thinking: "That could have been us." The only other time I mourn is on fathers day. I see other people, neighbors, and friends celebrating with their dads: BBQing together, going to car shows, football games, or whatever activities people go do with their dads.... and I've never experienced that so sometimes I just wonder what it's like.
My dad will most likely pass away before I ever see him again. I might not ever talk to him again. We may never get closure. It is very sad. I do mourn that. It's not my fault and I do blame him and wish things were different.
I am not sure the reason for the breakdown. It could be the mourning of something I wish I had and even though my dad and my home growing up were violent there were some good times. Maybe mourning what family time I 'did' have or the fact my life was changing so drastically? Like Gypsy says, there are people who drop off and i could care less. When he did, it was not about him but myself and my mom, the added pressure of grief and chaos all around me.
((hugs)) sending you much support Muji