I grew up with two brothers and we were a military family that moved often in our early years, and our parents divorced when I was young. Growing up, there was a lot of chaos in our family. My father drank and was verbally and physically abusive to all family members. My mother was adopted as a child and was the perfect victim and allowed my dad to abuse us kids as well.
My mother did not drink much, but she had a wild side and was rather promiscuous after her divorce. As kids, we never knew who she would bring home and some were not “quality people.” My mother was also estranged from her family as well. During this time, my brothers and I were always stressed, we had poor parenting, neglect, and abuse, so we kinda banded together to survive. I was the “mini mother” and tried to keep home life moving with cooking, cleaning, laundry and any other problems that arose while we were left alone, which was often for a number of years.
Finally, my mother remarried when my brothers and I were teenagers. We finally had a roof over our heads and we were relieved that food was plentiful and our stepfather appeared to be steady and ok compared to others my mother dated. But my younger brother and my stepfather didn’t get along. There was frequent fighting and negative behavior issues, which contributed to the tension in the household. Once I graduated high school, I moved out to attend college but mostly to get away from the toxic home environment.
After leaving home, my brothers and I drifted apart further and further. I did not return home for holidays and was not included in any family celebrations, etc. It felt good to leave all the “bad stuff” behind and be free to succeed without abuse, criticism, and toxic behaviors. Sometimes I wished my family was “normal” and we could be close, but it didn’t seem possible or plausible. Too many bad things clouded my memories and being together just did not seem like a good idea.
Now at almost 60, I have reconnected with my mother and younger brother in a limited way. My father died when I was in my 40s, and he stayed estranged from all of us kids. My mom only speaks with me and not anyone else. I think sometimes it would have been nice to have the warm and fuzzy family stuff, but I went on to do the best I could alone and I’m ok for the most part.
I guess I feel like I have set boundaries and have limited trust with some of my primary family members whom I believe have some forms of mental illness that prevent them from maintaining the healthy give and take in relationships. So, my reconcilliations are limited and I’m still estranged from my older brother. I believe my older brother does not want to revisit any of the past so he keeps his distance, which is fine since it’s his choice.