My family was literally dysfunctional...not just in a Psych 101-way where it is claimed that 95% of families are “dysfunctional”. My family literally could not meet basic requirements. I lived with my grandmother across the street from my parents’ house because my mother could not get up in the morning in time to get a couple of kids off to school. She would stay up half the night watching old movies, get to bed, and wake up at noon, just like a teen-ager on summer vacation. To escape I went to a college 1500 miles away but really didn’t have the skills to successfully handle academic responsibility. I graduated and stayed there but had a low-paying job, lousy boyfriends, and decent female friends. Est made me realize that I had to take charge of my life. I also realized that my mother had never taken responsibility for even taking care of herself (my father did the laundry, cooking, etc.). Through this insight I was able separate do-era from users.
It amazes me the number of people who have to essentially raise themselves because their experience of family life is so grossly distorted and dysfunctional.
I have a high-school friend — female — who I liked and admired when I saw her every day, but for some reason couldn't talk to. She just didn't present a contact surface, so to speak, back then.
At a reunion some years back, I spent hours talking to her, and found out she was physically abused by her father, who also abused his wife (who left him) and then a live-in girlfriend.
The abuse wasn't sexual (at least I don't think it was) but included everything else, including being thrown out of the house at night and having to fend for herself. She had a twin sister, and between the two of them a remarkable bond of survival developed.
Her first marriage was basically a repeat of her childhood experience with a husband playing the role that her father once played.
But her second marriage was with a great man, who gave her a great life, took care of her, was kind and loving to her.
The point is, I had absolutely not the slightest idea that this was going on back in high school. I saw the two of them — the two twin sisters, who were not identical — every day, and they seemed quite normal to me, if somewhat withdrawn and quiet. I assumed they went home to a family, two parents, a warm and cozy house, a safe bed to sleep in every night, just like I did. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Multiply that sort of pain by millions, and you have the real world.
I'm glad you survived, MHT. I'm glad to have met you here tonight.