Quote:
Originally Posted by sidestepper
I think our parents are a lot alike. Growing up in my house there could be a raging wall of silent rage between my parents but the moment anyone called everyone was all smiles and friendly. Any feelings other than fine were not validated and not allowed.
I hid my depression behind a mask of social politeness and smiles and after I married an abusive guy I hid that too....until one day I could not hide behind the smiles any more and tried suicide. Of course my mom wanted to know how I could do such a thing to her! For a while after everything broke loose I too was extremely critical of my folks, and everything else around me. Part of that was the years of depression that turned everything into a negative, part of it was learning to feel my emotions, name them, and get used to acknowledging that I had feelings other than happy & fine.
This is just part of your growing awareness that "fine" doesn't work. I loved my parents and still do, we became closer and more comfortable after I went though therapy although there were a few very rocky years when my father felt I had let the family name down. Dad died years ago but my mother and I are now closer than ever before, I've learned that she went though a lot of depression too and wishes now that she had, had the strength to go to therapy years earlier. Your parents might just surprise you.
|
Thanks, Sidestepper. Yes, very, very similar sounding. When I was in therapy briefly a few years ago, I kept stressing that my childhood had been ok...nobody beat me, I wasn't hungry, etc. I was so filled with hate for myself that I wasn't even ready to accept the possibility that something other than my own inability to deal with life had caused any problems. But, as I described my parents, my childhood, my interactions with my family, etc, she began nodding her head and telling me how she had heard the same types of things time and time again...people like me who lived with a constant cloud of disappointment hanging over our heads 100% of the time because we didn't live up to our parents' image of what a perfect child should be. 5 A's and a B+ on a report card was something I had to dread for a week because I knew it was short of perfection or not as good as my brother or sister. And, anything I did that disappointed my parents wasn't met with yelling or screaming or anything I could even react to...no short outburst followed by a return to normal...it was a never ending subtle cloud of disappointment that never, ever went away. And, it hangs over me to this day, but as an adult, the cloud is bigger because it is my cloud and my family's cloud and it has been growing and getting stronger for 30 years. At the time, I wasn't ready to accept any criticism from the therapist about anybody except for myself...I had gone to her to be berated...not coddled. But, I remember her stating to me that she thought growing up surrounded by disappointment that never goes away could be just as bad as an environment where everyone is screaming.
I do think that my parents could eventually surprise me, but it will not come from simply talking about my feelings to them. I've tried speaking to my brother like a human being but I am met with nothing but criticism and talked to like a child. I've pointed out to my mother that I am capable of doing things for myself, I've pointed out to her that pestering me about the same things 3x a week for 18 years does no good, but she doesn't understand. Simply talking and telling does no good. It will likely take something much more for them to understand. It's amazing for me to hear about your parents' reaction to your suicide attempt, because during the times when I have been the most down, the only thing that has kept me alive is the shame and disappointment that would come from my parents and family. It is not their love keeping me alive...it is my desire to not give in and know that long after I'm gone, they will be speaking of how much I let them down. There have been many, many times that I've thought to myself that once my parents are gone, I will either kill myself or cut ties to the family and disappear completely to live the life I want without feeling their judgement. Now, I do not intend to ever act upon the suicidal thoughts, but it just makes me realize how similar my situation is to the one you have described.
A few years ago, a friend came to visit me when I was living on the east coast. I just mentioned to my mom that I was going to the airport to pick up a friend, and she wouldn't drop it until I told her who the person was...when she found out it was a female, she wanted to see a picture. I am a white male, and my friend was a black female...my mother saw this picture and pretty much immediately began talking about how I could not date a black girl. I told her that we were not dating although I wouldn't rule the possibility out in the future and that I didn't think it should matter since it's not 1940. Immediately, she began telling me how my dad would not accept it and if I ever married a black girl I wouldn't be in the family anymore and the relatives could never know. And that we absolutely could never have children because of various ridiculous reasons that aren't worth mentioning here. The first thing I thought of after that conversation was, "I really need to marry her...it would be the perfect way to never have to deal with this family again." I'm not sure why I'm mentioning all that, but basically, it would take something large scale like that happening before I could see my parents ever surprising me. And even then, whose to say that they wouldn't make good on their statement that I'd be out of the family.
I do love them, but I wouldn't discount the possibility that the only way I'm ever going to be able to have a healthy relationship with them is by disappearing for a while to get my mind together without feeling their judgement hanging over me every step of the way. It doesn't surprise me to hear you say that your mother suffered from untreated depression as I would be willing to bet that my mother has done the same thing for many years. One of my grandfathers was an alcoholic who ran off, left his wife and kids, and never contacted them again, so there is clearly a history of mental illness on that side of the family.
At any rate, I'm not trying to place blame anywhere, but ignoring these things and just focusing on the present and future doesn't seem like an honest way to go about getting better. I'm acknowledging that as far back as I have memories of my life, I've always pretended to be "fine" when I've been hurting. I come from a family that has always been "good!" even when we're not. I'm realizing that this history of pretending everything is ok when it's really not began in my family at least two generations before I was even born.