Understanding, 50 years too late

[MountainGirl]

 Now that I am able to define it, my childhood experience explains why I always feel like I am bad or wrong. At least I think I understand one source of these feelings. Whenever my alcoholic mother would show signs of an imminent  blow up, I tried to "talk her down," and I always failed, because of course she wanted to fly into an irrational rage. Humiliation when she flew off into irrational rants in public and my inability to forestall such scenes told me I wasn't good enough. Not good enough for her to care  about me  not smart enough to be able to circumvent her attacks - just not good enough. And then the shame of being inadequate. This damaging interaction was exacerbated, or maybe even set up, by my father's contention that I needed to be "understanding" and patient with her. I needed to ignore my own psyche and focus on her.

And that "positive reinforcement" from my father was in turn exacerbated by our Catholicism. We should be crucified on the altar of her illness rather than look out  for ourselves. Sacrificing our own sanity in order to "help" her. But we just helped her to ignore her illness and damage herself and all of us in the household. The kinds of mental problems that the children developed eventually killed my brother at age 46, and left my other brother and me with lifelong mental problems.

My surviving brother and I have managed to get by, but we both spend a good deal of effort avoiding people. Neither of us will ever  again  be imprisoned by the  demands of other people. Never again. So we live our lives alone, with relationships that are often superficial. I wonder and hope that the realizations I have had in therapy will eventually make this dark self hatred go away. I couldn't save her, she died of alcoholism when I was 16. I watched her do it and was incapable of stopping her. Before her death my father had consulted a doctor who told us that she would be dead in a year if we did not involuntarily commit her to a mental institution. I was 15 when my father asked me what "we" should do. I see now that that question was so far out of bounds as to be truly nutty - you don't ask a 15 year old kid to make a decision about the life or death of a parent. The  "we" part of  that was just truly bonkers.

When my father told me the medical people would strap her to a table and run hundreds of volts of electricity through her body I was appalled and said "Don't do it." And a year later, as the doc had predicted, she was dead.

[Phoebes]

Mountain girl, that certainly was so unfair that your father asked that of you at 15. I'm so sorry your mom drank that way and passed away from it when you were a teen. That in itself would be more than too much.

I can very closely relate to your relationship with your dad. Just swap out high episcopal for catholic, not a far stretch. And now he's switched to fundamental Baptist. Even today my dad lives by basically his and my feelings or needs are completely off the table, and it's our "duty" to "forgive and forget" and, oh I love this one, "keep our mouth shut to keep the peace." He really is twisting things to find comfort in his own dysfunction.

I've been questioning my dad when he still says this stuff. He goes deer in the headlights, silent, switch the subject, or gets angry or sad. he doesn't change. It's bizarre a father is fine with sacrificing their children like that. It speaks volumes about their mental health, not ours really. Took me a long time to see that about my dad since everyone sees him as so sweet and wonderful.

I'm so sorry about your brother, too. I understand the trajectory this stuff sets us on. I'm right there with you. I know intellectually, but I struggle. I've lived alone and been alone my entire life, and my "friendships" have dwindled away for one reason or another. I struggle to e productive, or to reach out to people. This group here has saved my life.

[MountainGirl]

Thank you for your reply Phoebes. Yes, High Anglican  or RC, pretty similar. And it sounds like our experience with paternal "parentification" is similar too. Like your  "sweet" Dad, mine was "beloved." That word figures in an online tribute to my Dad from his employer. What I don't understand is how they, yours and mine, could be so utterly blind to the extensive damage caused their children. Surely it was obvious that one doesn't force children to live in such a wildly stressful, unhealthy environment. But apparently not. Somehow the obvious just didn't sink in. I gather your parents are still alive - I don't know how you would manage that, still dealing with abusive
behavior in the present. I find it hard enough to deal with the past. But at least we both know now, because of OOTS, that we are not alone - and that means a lot! Take care Phoebes, and I hope you can find a way to come to terms with your "sweet" parent.