I Blame My Parents
I’m scratching at something. These are the scraps that will become a whole story.
Thanks for reading <3
A Song For The Road:
My roommate and I have impeccable morning conversations. The second her head is off the pillow, there are good thoughts bouncing around in there. She always gets me thinking about everything. Today, we talked about that childhood trauma test that popped up in my feed.
Of the short 10-question video, I put 7 fingers down. I wasn't surprised. My family is one of many caught in the addiction cycle, the codependency, the everything. My mom was never an addict, but was raised in an alcoholic home. My dad was sober by the time I came along, but that is its own bag of cats. They both had relationships with adults who were not fully functioning. They spent a lot of time trying to help those around them. Unfortunately, that often meant neglecting the emotional needs of their children (and themselves!). We were exposed to stuff we shouldn't have been. By welcoming addicts into our home, under the guise of helping them, my parents perfectly perpetrated the addiction cycle. They did help a lot of people, but was it at the cost of their children's mental health and security?
By not offering too much advice or help, they created hyper-independent children. At a point, we were doing more than should have been asked of us. When I think about the timing of this, how it happened, I can't be upset with them. My Dad had been hurt, my mom got sick, we had to step up even though we weren't yet 10. I took so much pride in helping my family. I remember asking to do the dishes. Still, I can't help but wonder at what point did we have to do these things and what was actually an acceptable level of independence for children our age.
I think the part that sticks, and my sister talks about this too, was being sent to our room to calm down alone. Nobody had the tools to teach us how to handle our feelings, they didn't know how to sit with us because they were just as disregulated. My parents would always come in and reconcile once everyone was calm, but they didn't know how to remain calm when we were challenging. If they couldn't do it for themselves, how could they have helped us?
My mom has become a whole new human in her grandmother years. I am so thankful for the growth that both my parents did, because I know they did it out of love for us and wanting to teach us what they couldn't when we were younger.
Pretty sure I’m the baby in Grandma Jane’s arms… Parents not pictured.
It’s wild growing up and relearning everything you thought you knew. To be old enough to have all the facts about your family and what was really going on.
Turns out there’s a fuck load going on under the surface.
