In my late teens and early 20s I was close to a family that was everything my own horrid family wasn't. If I could have picked, I'd have aked that family to adopt me.
I think, if I'd asked at the time, they may very well have said yes. They were just the loveliest people ever.
I think they could sense that things were awful at home and that my family was broken and dysfunctional.
But back then, it wasn't really the kind of thing that was openly discussed, so we never talked about it.
I remember back then, wishing for their help, but also afraid to ask for it, because I felt like I didn't deserve it and I should be able to make it on my own and because I didn't want to bring all that messiness and PTSD and depression into their space.
So, I struggled on my own and built up a life for myself, but one with a lot of stuff missing.
Being in touch with this family became more infrequent and contanct sort of dwindled over the years, partly due to me moving away, but mainly because I started trauma therapy, went no contact with my family of origin, was on disability benefits for a long time, etc... These didn't feel like the kind of thing I could "write home" about to thi family.
I did try broaching the subject with them once.... that I was doing trauma therapy and why... but didn't get a response to that... I don't think they were good at "talking" about that kind of stuff.... They were more just people who helped in a practical way by being kind and loving and supportive.
I felt like they were so "positive", and by struggling with my trauma and by talking about it and by dealing with the fall out from it, I was being "negative".
So, basically, I let the contact dwindle more, because I just didn't know how to stay in touch 10 or 20 years later, with the situation having changed so much. (Back then, I was a lost, troubled teen and they were providing some care... later, we were all adults, living our own lives... it just felt like a totally different situation.)
I think maybe the grandma had gone through similar trauma in her family of origin. The grandma and the grandpa was who I was closest to and from some stuff they said once, it sounded like her childhood was pretty bad too.
She'd dealt with that by a) being a religious person and trusting that God loved her and that she would overcome the trials she had been put through and b) by being someone who was incredibly helpful to everyone in the community who was in need. She was just a very virtuous person.
In contrast, my post-trauma journey has had a lot of struggle and anger and resentment about what happened in my childhood and doing trauma therapy and talking about what happened. I took a different path and never felt like I could live up to her virtuous ways.
Recently, a couple of deaths have occurred in this family (peaceful deaths, in old age) that I've heard about on Facebook and I know I should be reaching out to this family to send my condolences, given how close we once were.
I feel so conflicted about it tho and so, week by week passes and weeks turn into months and I have no idea what to say/ what not to say/ how to get back in touch.
I feel like those times gone by are about a million years ago and while I love that family for looking after that lost teenage girl that I was... I don't know how to connect to that in a way that isn't one thousand percent awkward and utterly uncomfortable.
I think, if I'd asked at the time, they may very well have said yes. They were just the loveliest people ever.
I think they could sense that things were awful at home and that my family was broken and dysfunctional.
But back then, it wasn't really the kind of thing that was openly discussed, so we never talked about it.
I remember back then, wishing for their help, but also afraid to ask for it, because I felt like I didn't deserve it and I should be able to make it on my own and because I didn't want to bring all that messiness and PTSD and depression into their space.
So, I struggled on my own and built up a life for myself, but one with a lot of stuff missing.
Being in touch with this family became more infrequent and contanct sort of dwindled over the years, partly due to me moving away, but mainly because I started trauma therapy, went no contact with my family of origin, was on disability benefits for a long time, etc... These didn't feel like the kind of thing I could "write home" about to thi family.
I did try broaching the subject with them once.... that I was doing trauma therapy and why... but didn't get a response to that... I don't think they were good at "talking" about that kind of stuff.... They were more just people who helped in a practical way by being kind and loving and supportive.
I felt like they were so "positive", and by struggling with my trauma and by talking about it and by dealing with the fall out from it, I was being "negative".
So, basically, I let the contact dwindle more, because I just didn't know how to stay in touch 10 or 20 years later, with the situation having changed so much. (Back then, I was a lost, troubled teen and they were providing some care... later, we were all adults, living our own lives... it just felt like a totally different situation.)
I think maybe the grandma had gone through similar trauma in her family of origin. The grandma and the grandpa was who I was closest to and from some stuff they said once, it sounded like her childhood was pretty bad too.
She'd dealt with that by a) being a religious person and trusting that God loved her and that she would overcome the trials she had been put through and b) by being someone who was incredibly helpful to everyone in the community who was in need. She was just a very virtuous person.
In contrast, my post-trauma journey has had a lot of struggle and anger and resentment about what happened in my childhood and doing trauma therapy and talking about what happened. I took a different path and never felt like I could live up to her virtuous ways.
Recently, a couple of deaths have occurred in this family (peaceful deaths, in old age) that I've heard about on Facebook and I know I should be reaching out to this family to send my condolences, given how close we once were.
I feel so conflicted about it tho and so, week by week passes and weeks turn into months and I have no idea what to say/ what not to say/ how to get back in touch.
I feel like those times gone by are about a million years ago and while I love that family for looking after that lost teenage girl that I was... I don't know how to connect to that in a way that isn't one thousand percent awkward and utterly uncomfortable.
