Parentification is when a child is either expected to act like the adult or parent directly by caring for siblings or their own parents, paying bills, making meals, etc…OR by becoming the emotional caregiver for their parents. In my case, it was the latter.
In the last two weeks, I’ve learned that complex post traumatic stress disorder is the primary issue that I’m facing and I got this from continuous childhood emotional neglect. My emotional needs were not met. I wasn’t allowed to develop emotionally at a normal level. Three weeks ago, when I stumbled onto the term “parentification” I felt a break in the immense weight I carry on my shoulders. For one glorious week, I felt unconditional love from and to my husband. I felt calm and peaceful. I felt my parasympathetic nervous system turn off for the first time in my life, which meant that I felt what it really means to feel relaxed for the very first time ever. I felt a sense of inner confidence and direction, a true sense of individuality that I simply cannot put into words. I felt joy. I felt one week of just happiness and joy which is something I have never felt before – EVER. Then it went away. The effects of my trauma were too strong and it overtook that wonderful, wonderful feeling. Now I feel that I’m being tortured because I now see how others experience their life. I see how they are able to care for others while not being 100% tethered to them like a locked chain. I see there’s another way to live life and I want it back. Badly.
I am emotionally immature because my parents were/are emotionally immature and I had no one to teach me any differently. I’m extremely angry about that because I feel like my 20s and 30s were stolen from me. I can’t turn back time and it wasn’t my fault that I was brought up to be terrified of everyone and everything – despite my outwardly confidence appearance.
That one glorious week revealed to me that so many things are just symptoms of complex ptsd (C-PTSD) due to my neglectful childhood. I thought I’d make this post about the things I’ve had to deal with constantly. All because I was never hugged and held as a child. I never formed a secure attachment to either parent because of their own issues. I never heard the words I love you from my parents until I was almost out of high school. Parents…please hug your kids so they don’t have to deal with this crap.
My symptoms included:
- Digestive issues that I thought were irritable bowel syndrome. As I’ve progressed through therapy, this has lessened so much that it’s nearly non-existent now – thankfully!
- Extreme and constant fatigue. From about the time that I was 15 years old to now – well into my forties. I just thought I was a person who had low-energy and that was my lot in life to carry. I’m now learning that I have moments of better energy. My one great week has shown me that, but I also had a momentary break (in a good way) about 4 years ago which also reinforces the fact that my fatigue is a direct result of my emotional burden.
- Chronic muscle and joint aches. Getting out of bed, certainly the last couple of years, feels painful every single day. Constant aches everywhere. This is a testament to how much tension our bodies carry in our systems.
- Explosive anger. Sometimes for reasons that make no sense to others who feel “normal”.
- Uncontrollable eating. Food is my drug. For others it might be alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling or other similar vices. I eat – a lot. Which of course means gaining weight which doesn’t help the chronic pain…see the circular pattern of crap here?
- Thoughts of suicide. This has been around for me the last two years, off and on. I feel I bring nothing of value to this world and therefore shouldn’t be a part of it. I want to say that again because I now know that emotional abuse is the cause of this thought even if I don’t know yet how to change it…I feel I bring nothing of value to the world. I was programmed from birth, although not intentionally, to believe this.
- Overwhelming, constant, debilitating sense of responsibility. Let me give this as an example, the pandemic hit and I felt that it was my duty to solve the problem. I needed to save the world – not because of any hero-complex, but because I was responsible for doing so. I am programmed to take care of everyone else – everyone.
- Guilt. Crushing guilt. Soul-sucking, life-sucking, everything-I-do-hurts-someone-and-it’s-my-fault guilt.
- Inability to allow myself to connect to my spouse. This is the part where insecure attachment disorder comes in. As can be predicted, my marriage hasn’t exactly been a picnic. I’m lucky to still have one.
- Depression. Deep down I have always been unable to shake the feeling that my depression is related to something unresolved and turns out that I was right. Depression has plagued me for a long time and as I’ve aged, it’s become worse. As I write this tonight, I can say with 99.9% certainty that my depression is a long-term symptom of being emotionally abused through parentification and emotional neglect my ENTIRE life.
- This one I’m not as sure about, but I’m fairly certain that the itching and hives I mentioned before are a way that my body’s rejecting the pain of this abuse and burden. I’ll have to circle back to this because I will only know this if it eventually subsides.
- A complete lack of understanding of emotions. Until a few years ago, everything was anger. I literally could not identify any emotion other than anger. My therapist had an emotion wheel on the table in her office and would often ask me to pick it up and look at the words and try to identify with them as I was describing things. I cannot stress this enough. Even if it sounds weird, I had no vocabulary for any emotion beyond anger. To this day I have a limited vocabulary but am working on it.
- Inability to sleep. Sure, I could go to bed for 10 hours every night and “sleep” but wake up feeling as if I had not got any rest. This is how I have spent the last 20 years of my life – never feeling rested. Of course – this doesn’t help the fatigue.
- And related to #13 is being in a constant state of fight or flight. And by constant I mean CONSTANT! I am always rigid and tense. My one great week, for the first time, I felt what it was like to have my body relax. I felt a physical sense of calm and peace. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE! Over forty years. I’ve not really been able to relax in over forty years. I feel like crying (again) as I write that.
- Hypervigilence. This is a part of the constant fight or flight. I’m aware of everything and everyone around me at almost all times. Basically it means I’m on the constant look-out for anything remotely dangerous. And danger can mean something (or someone) threatening me physically, but it can also mean on the lookout for any signals from anyone that they might be in a bad mood or they might say something hurtful to me. I always know where the exits are when I’m in a crowd – always.
- Continuing to feel like a child. I have said to therapists more than once that despite being middle-aged, I feel like a little kid. And one that always feels like she’s about to get into trouble, so I’m always afraid of what people are going to say to me. Those who know me really well might understand this, those who know me but not REALLY well might be perplexed by this because I’m damn good at being a chameleon. (by the way, I rarely let people fully in, so I bet there’s only one or two people that would truly see the scared kid inside me)
- I’ve moved – a lot. I learned a few years ago that it didn’t matter where I lived, this pain followed me there anyway. But I didn’t know that for a long time and continued to think that if I could just be in a place that was better, I’d be happy and relaxed. Even after I knew that I couldn’t run away, we still moved. I think my husband has a little bit of this in him as well – but just a little bit. We moved because he got opportunities to grow his career and I eagerly jumped on the moving truck with him, always hoping the next stop in the road would be better. Turns out that with each move we had more stuff – both literally and figuratively. I’ll write more on the physical accumulation of crap as it relates to this topic in the future.
I should’ve recognized some of this sooner because I’ve been describing to therapists for a few years that inside I feel like a puppy that’s been repeatedly kicked and beaten and I’m now in the back of my cage shaking and cowering away from anyone one because I don’t want to be kicked any more. But recognizing this covert type of abuse IS hard when it’s at the hands of someone who’s responsible for your care. It’s even harder when overall my childhood wasn’t that bad. I had clothes, food, shelter and I knew my parents cared about me. They came to my band concerts and parent-teacher conferences and all that other stuff. But again…I’ve learned that what was traumatizing to me was what I didn’t get that I so desperately needed and that was unconditional emotional safety. Hugs and reassurance that I didn’t need to be perfect or “good” all the time would have made all the difference to feeling like I’ve been living life rather than tolerating it.
I’m going to be writing a lot about this in order to provide some therapy to myself and perhaps put something out there for others to find if it’s helpful. As part of my trauma, I cope with it by being overly cognitive, basically researching the hell out of the subject to find ways to get better. I’ve found some really good stuff and will begin to share some of them as I move forward.
