Quote:
Originally Posted by peaches100
Hi Elana,
I emailed my t and told her how i felt. She said that she wasn't making a "prediction" about my parents or saying that absolutely they would not change. She was just letting me know that, in view of what i've told her about them, it is "unlikely" that they will change. I guess that makes me feel a little better, that there's some hope. . .although I know she is probably right. They are 67 now, and barring some dramatic event happening that would make them evaluate themselves and their relationship with my sister and I, they will no doubt continue on the way they have always been.
I have, in the past, revealed just a little bit my unhappiness about a couple of things that happened in my childhood that relates to them. They totally dismissed it. They said they couldn't think of anything from my childhood that would have caused me problems, and that my serious clinical depression was just my hormones. When I lost 26 pounds during my depression and was put in the hospital, they completely ignored it. They never even mentioned knowing about it, didn't ask why i was depressed, or even offer to help in any way. Just acted like it wasn't happening.
That's what i remember about my childhood. When i was hurting or confused or even in danger, nobody noticed, nobody said anything, or did anything. Even so, there's a part of me today that keeps waiting for them to show that they really, truly care about me. They do a couple of nice things here and there, which keeps my hope alive. But it's not the way it should be between parents and their children. I know it's not. I just hate to see it, admit it, feel it.
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(((Peaches)))
I can relate. My parents are the same age:67, 68. I had a big blow-up with my mom over Christmas because I (basically) said to her "haven't you noticed that I have never gotten to be honest with you, never gotten to share any of my feelings?" But she couldn't hear it, couldn't see me. She just said, "I didn't do anything wrong, stop calling me a bad mother." It is so hard to keep going back and keep going back and keep holding out for a different set of responses. My T just keeps telling me to try to let go. And I think it is getting easier. But... hope springs eternal: my dad has told me he is thinking of going to therapy. Well, better late than never.
My heart goes out to you. You are not alone...