Sorry for so much text while i don't add much here. I just want to get rid of it. And maybe there are others who recognize themselves ..
I have no contact with my family of origin. I am so overwhelmed with thougts and feelings concerning that. And it is so difficult to express in words. I feel like no one understands...
First of all, it's hard to put the facts together. I beat out my brains around what happened and who's 'fault' it is. Around my 18th birthday I called my whole family together to make a plan for a better relationsship with my parents. We where already out of touch for a few months. But in the end, I wanted to be sure that I had done everything. But no one ever sticked to the plan. No one ever got in touch with me after that. That was so hard and lonely. But then me, in an angry mood, I send my mother a postcard for her birthday with a story about something abusive she had done, and told her not to get in touch anymore. I added a picture of my scars of self harm. I self harmed since I was 11 and all she said is 'don't use the knives from the kitchen, because I need them for cooking.' She didn't reply. No one did. Nothing. No aunt, no uncle, no niece, or nephew, none of the family friends. Deep down I really hoped to provoke a reaction. I hoped they would finally 'get' it. That someone would fight for me. Even be furious with me, if necessary.
I'ts been 15 years. Ok, fair enough, my mother tried 3 times. She send me a what's app, saying something like: 'hi, i also have whatsapp'. I asked who's number it was. I got: 'its your mother'. I was shocked and I blocked her, pretending it never happened. Second time, my mothers friend send me an email about the pain my mother is in since we no longer have contact. She wanted to help my mother. Can I please get in touch with her? It wasn't a nice message. She wasnt open for my part of the story. She didn't offer to mediate. She didn't take into acount my feelings. I blocked her.
She send a request to connect with a good friend of mine on social media. My friend replayed she's a friend of mine and that if she wanted to get in touch with me she can contact me directly. My mother replayed she wasn't meaning to get it touch and the request was a mistake. Her message was a bit longer. I find the message of my mother kind of nice but it made 2 friends sick to their stomach and they felt sorry for me.Wich I can sort of understand when they explain that to me. But it is hard. I feel I am the hars and brutal one.
A good friend has broken with her family because of sexually abuse. I'm afraid she will project her story on me when she gives me advice. I may have made things worse. This is also the side of my family's story; I have a great imagination and empathy, and like the attention I get when I tell others about my terrible parents.
Then, I sometimes wonder what would happen if I encounter my parents. Would I be happy or relieved to see them? Would I welcome them if they are at the door? No, I would most likely be afraid. I would try to get myself out of the situation and run as far as possible. I would push them hard if they would get too close. I feel so much disgust. But why? And why does this keeps me busy, every single day, for so many years? It is contradictory.
I blame myself to the bone for breaking with my family. Is that fair or not? How can I find out without getting in touch?
I'm learning to talk in therapy. I am not afraid of it anymore. My therapist is quite neutral and I find that makes it easy. I feel neutral too. Doesn't overwelm me that way.
So, learning this, I answered my colleaque when she asked about my family of origin. On automatic pilot I told her things and aswered her questions. She was compassionad. It felt heart warming delicious. I was proud of myself, that I was able to do that. My therapist is encouraging me to tell people.
But a little bit after the conversation I suddenly felt uncomfortable with the colleague in the room. The conversation resulted in a very stressfull week (!). I had to fight against self harm and taking oxazepam to give my head a rest. I break my head over all the heartwarming, but also painfull things, opinions she said. It provoked injustified fears, like, now she will contact my parents. And it provoked so much memories. I said things I feel uncomfortable with now. I do not remember parts of the conversation and feel uncomfortable with that. I feel angry with her because she can so easily say; ok, thanks for sharing, now let's go back to work. And I am left alone in a rollercoaster aftermath that is choking me and I am wondering if it ever gets better?
I am thankfull I could share here..
I have no contact with my family of origin. I am so overwhelmed with thougts and feelings concerning that. And it is so difficult to express in words. I feel like no one understands...
First of all, it's hard to put the facts together. I beat out my brains around what happened and who's 'fault' it is. Around my 18th birthday I called my whole family together to make a plan for a better relationsship with my parents. We where already out of touch for a few months. But in the end, I wanted to be sure that I had done everything. But no one ever sticked to the plan. No one ever got in touch with me after that. That was so hard and lonely. But then me, in an angry mood, I send my mother a postcard for her birthday with a story about something abusive she had done, and told her not to get in touch anymore. I added a picture of my scars of self harm. I self harmed since I was 11 and all she said is 'don't use the knives from the kitchen, because I need them for cooking.' She didn't reply. No one did. Nothing. No aunt, no uncle, no niece, or nephew, none of the family friends. Deep down I really hoped to provoke a reaction. I hoped they would finally 'get' it. That someone would fight for me. Even be furious with me, if necessary.
I'ts been 15 years. Ok, fair enough, my mother tried 3 times. She send me a what's app, saying something like: 'hi, i also have whatsapp'. I asked who's number it was. I got: 'its your mother'. I was shocked and I blocked her, pretending it never happened. Second time, my mothers friend send me an email about the pain my mother is in since we no longer have contact. She wanted to help my mother. Can I please get in touch with her? It wasn't a nice message. She wasnt open for my part of the story. She didn't offer to mediate. She didn't take into acount my feelings. I blocked her.
She send a request to connect with a good friend of mine on social media. My friend replayed she's a friend of mine and that if she wanted to get in touch with me she can contact me directly. My mother replayed she wasn't meaning to get it touch and the request was a mistake. Her message was a bit longer. I find the message of my mother kind of nice but it made 2 friends sick to their stomach and they felt sorry for me.Wich I can sort of understand when they explain that to me. But it is hard. I feel I am the hars and brutal one.
A good friend has broken with her family because of sexually abuse. I'm afraid she will project her story on me when she gives me advice. I may have made things worse. This is also the side of my family's story; I have a great imagination and empathy, and like the attention I get when I tell others about my terrible parents.
Then, I sometimes wonder what would happen if I encounter my parents. Would I be happy or relieved to see them? Would I welcome them if they are at the door? No, I would most likely be afraid. I would try to get myself out of the situation and run as far as possible. I would push them hard if they would get too close. I feel so much disgust. But why? And why does this keeps me busy, every single day, for so many years? It is contradictory.
I blame myself to the bone for breaking with my family. Is that fair or not? How can I find out without getting in touch?
I'm learning to talk in therapy. I am not afraid of it anymore. My therapist is quite neutral and I find that makes it easy. I feel neutral too. Doesn't overwelm me that way.
So, learning this, I answered my colleaque when she asked about my family of origin. On automatic pilot I told her things and aswered her questions. She was compassionad. It felt heart warming delicious. I was proud of myself, that I was able to do that. My therapist is encouraging me to tell people.
But a little bit after the conversation I suddenly felt uncomfortable with the colleague in the room. The conversation resulted in a very stressfull week (!). I had to fight against self harm and taking oxazepam to give my head a rest. I break my head over all the heartwarming, but also painfull things, opinions she said. It provoked injustified fears, like, now she will contact my parents. And it provoked so much memories. I said things I feel uncomfortable with now. I do not remember parts of the conversation and feel uncomfortable with that. I feel angry with her because she can so easily say; ok, thanks for sharing, now let's go back to work. And I am left alone in a rollercoaster aftermath that is choking me and I am wondering if it ever gets better?
I am thankfull I could share here..
