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Childhood Separating From Family Of Origin

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It is cathartic to read this thread. It's too long and complicated to go into the details, but everything came to a head with my family about 4 years ago. My mom has been dead since 1993 (good riddance). I have two older sisters who I have nothing to do with. I have somewhat of a relationship with my dad (although I doubt I'll feel much when he dies). I made the mistake of moving into my dad's second house when I left my husband - he offered, I didn't ask. I paid him rent and took very good care of his house...he was a passive aggressive ass to me when he was there. Long story short, it all led to my sisters and me having nothing to do with each other. My middle sister really screwed me over (including contacting my ex-husband and giving him information about me on the pre-text of trying to get in touch with my son - who won't talk to her). At that point, the words of a past therapist finally really sunk in: "You were the child who was supposed to fix the marriage. So, you are the unspoken target." I know my mom relented to having a third child all because of my dad's f*cked up competition with his brother who had a son. I can actually remember my dad lamenting in front of me when I was about 7 how he wished he had a son. I can remember at that moment wishing so badly to be a boy for him. I'm gay, so I joke that technically he has half a son! :) I can remember asking my mom around the same time whether she wanted to have a third child. Instead of saying something loving, she made it clear she was lukewarm to my existence at best. Of course, the beatings and neglect drove it home, too.

Our family was also one of those who put on a great false front. From the outside we seemed so great. I could never get into playing the part. My oldest sister was the "perfect" one who was my mother's (and everyone else's) favorite who, to this day, shine brightly as the perfect child. My middle sister became the silent, self-absorbed rebel who acted out in quiet/sneaky ways but didn't draw attention to the dysfunction. I was a neurotic, anxious, depressed mess with more odd behaviors than you could count. I was the weird, problematic kid who stood out as a beacon that something was wrong. So, I've been the punching bag for the family: disappointment to my dad, burden for my mother, and a pain in the ass to my much older sisters. My oldest sister one day told me that I would have had all the problems I did anyway, and things "weren't that bad." Nice thing to say, right? But, I also know she's admitted to at least one person feeling very guilty for not protecting me more when I was little. So, she knows damn well how bad it was. She just doesn't want to think about it. I've had fantasies of mailing her a copy of the EEG scan of my brain showing a textbook scan of someone with PTSD. I've also wished she could feel what I feel for just 5 minutes. She couldn't handle it. She can barely handle burnt toast.

So, my goal is to let go of the anger. It only hurts me. I've taken to visualizing hugging each of them, and telling them I'm sorry they hurt inside, at some point during the day. The visceral reaction to that simple image is pretty amazing. But, I am forcing myself. And, the only thing that has allowed me to do it is complete separation from them.
 
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