This is so hard to type out. I have shoved everything down so far for so many years that it's a feat to pull it back up and process it. When I cut out that one family member my relationships in general improved, I started eating better, and even had more energy. I was completely reassured that I made the right decision because he didn't try to make things right. But like I mentioned previously, after someone passed away I slowly allowed contact to resume.
The way that I have always dealt with things is solution first, emotions later. I was raped years ago...inwardly it broke and changed me, outwardly I learned how to act. While I feel like an open person, I hate to be vulnerable and out of control. I wouldn't jump when people snuck up behind me, I controlled my response when someone put their hand over my mouth, and while the process of being intimate used to make me nauseous, I was able to hide that reaction. I was functioning well enough, up until last year. I started a job that had heavy triggers for me and wasn't able to find a new one for 5 months. I started having panic attacks for the first time in my life, had trouble sleeping, etc. I have been out of that environment for about 4 months. Regardless, all of the reactions that would've made sense when the assault first happened are happening to me now. If anyone tries to touch me (even people I know - male or female) and I don't see it coming, I literally jump and pull away. Men who seem like they're flirting with me I run away from. I think about the rape multiple times per day and the fake smile I plaster on at work is easy to see through. I feel like I'm barely managing, it seems like all of the compartments in my life are suffering because of it, and I'm not thrilled with the idea of finding new coping mechanisms.
Now this relates to my family because I feel like the same thing will happen. I've been suppresing the abuse for years, and when that dam breaks I have no idea how I'll react. When I cut the ties I'll see things more clearly. When that happens and I face the facts; how will that affect my work, my day to day life, etc.? When I was younger, certain childhood friends who knew my history would tell me that they thought I was so strong. Years ago one told me that she was worried about me. Someone close to me had passed away and outwardly I remained emotionally level. She mentioned that she was worried about what would happen when I finally broke. Over time she saw things keep happening and kept thinking that each one would be the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. Five years later I believe that letting people go and getting to the core of everything will cause that break. I know that I have to do it and I'm going to do it very soon, but I can't say that I'm not concerned.
In terms of my family, I don't know where to begin. I was adopted by a physically ill woman and her alcoholic/addict husband. My father (adoptive) never particularly liked girls, but did it to appease his wife. Her mother (my grandmother) didn't approve of the adoption and spent years trying to convince my parents to "give me back". My mother wasn't physically able to pick me up and my father never particularly liked me, so in general I'm pretty unfamiliar with what security feels like.
My father had a temper which makes sense in terms of his addictions, but even when he was sober he was a "dry drunk" so to speak. The earliest I can remember being hit is 5 and it stopped when I was 14 and could fight back. He would chase me around the house, drag me on the floor, and his favorite was cornering me, screaming inches away from my face, and then hitting me when I wouldn't see where his swing would land. It happened multiple times per week. The worst episode was when he held me by the neck over a railing. When I confronted him about it days later I told him he could've killed me. His verbatim response was "If I wanted to kill you, I would have."
I had a foster brother live with us until I was close to 6 years old. He molested me and while I don't have a lot of vivid memories, I remember the details of the two rooms in our home that it would happen in. His room had a red blanket on the bed. I would stare down at that blanket and dissociate while it was happening. To this day I hate the color red, and the idea of being intimate with someone within my own home makes me sick. He got caught molesting another child (F/B was close to a decade older than me) and he was interviewed by social services. They wanted to speak to me because from talking to him they were just about positive that he was molesting me as well. My father refused, saying it would "traumatize me". Which makes me believe that he knew...he's never been particularly concerned about any aspect of my wellbeing.
Even though the F/B was sent to other homes, it never worked out in any of them. My junior year in high school, my mom pulled me aside and told me that he would be coming over for Thanksgiving because he "had nowhere else to go". She then proceeded to tell me the real reason he stopped living with us: his attraction to children. I looked at her and said "I know". Her eyes welled up as I confirmed her suspicions. He started coming over for Thanksgiving and Xmas after that regardless. My parents knew what he did but welcomed him into our home, bought him presents, and even though he only lived in the house for a few years he has equal rights in my father's will. I moved out at 18. When people would ask me if I was scared to move across the country so young by myself I would raise my eyebrows. Compared to living in that house, tightrope walking would have been a breeze.
My grandmother - the one that wanted my parents to get rid of me - would come into my room and touch me while I was sleeping. She even tried it two years ago when I flew back to say my goodbyes to a sick relative (no locks on the bedroom doors). I repressed the abuse so deeply, that when I was 19/20 and started having a response to people coming near me in my sleep (I'd wake up screaming) I had to stop and figure out why. I have a number of clear memories of it happening, but I had essentially tried to tell myself it was normal and buried it all for years. Looking back I think my mom knew, because I only slept over at my grandparent's house without my parents one time in my entire childhood. My family would sleepover every so often, but the majority of the abuse took place in my home when my grandparents would come and visit. Last year when I flew home for a funeral and made it very clear that I would be staying in a hotel. My grandmother replied that I was on a power trip and trying to control the situation. Because I didn't hear any talk about her abusing other children I felt like she saw me as trash. Something to use.
Then there was the emotional abuse. My father would tell family friends not to compliment me and he spread lies about me to the community. I was told it was my fault that I was raped because I decided to go to a party. My father bought a platonic friend a car, takes groups out to dinner regularly, and got enough money off of my mom's death to retire yet wouldn't even give me something free unless it happened to benefit him. I feel like I more or less raised myself.
Like I've said in the past, I don't think that the molestation or physical abuse was my fault. However, because so much has happened to me it's hard not to believe that I somehow deserve it. When people say that I was so lucky to be adopted I feel like it's such an ignorant assumption. Some people seem to have this idea in their heads that all adoptees are lucky that someone "saved" them.
There are a couple of other large issues within my family but at this point I'm trying not to write anything too identifying. In terms of cutting them off, the relatives I was closest to have passed away. I've been living on my own since 18. I don't live in the same state. I don't have any ties left to the community I grew up in and have no emotional attachment to the house. Emotional support, support of my dreams, or even general help (recipes, etc.) is something that I've never gotten from them. So it should be an easy break. However like I said before, I don't want to break by facing reality. And I worry about the explanation in future relationships. Someday I would like to be in a relationship that leads to marriage and the "Oh hey by the way, I wasn't born with this name and I don't speak to a single relative" conversation will be a daunting one to have I'd imagine. Plus I hate to admit it, but I don't want to feel like I've failed with not one but TWO families. My biological and then this one. Some people get along fine with their parents yet I'm seemingly in search of my third family.
The comments on here have been so helpful though, and I realize now that if I don't do it soon then the damage of staying in contact could do worse damage to my psyche than what I had previously imagined.
