I wrote an article for Medium last night about childhood emotional neglect and went into a lot more detail. I figure if my parents are reading, they’re going to know how I feel now.
I don’t honestly know if they’re reading. They have the link but I usually only tell them when I’ve published something I want them to read. I don’t know if they are self-disciplined enough not to read. A lot of that depends, I guess, on how interested they are.
I know my dad’s not at all interested but my mom is the wild card here. However, since she’s working again (part-time), she might be less inclined to look.
I’d like to play it cool and say that I don’t care but that’s not true. I don’t know if I hope they’ll read it or not, to be honest.
I’ve also come to realize in recent days that my dad is much worse than my mom in this regard. It’s kinda funny (though not really) that I was always a bit of a “daddy’s girl” but my dad is actually much more emotionally unhealthy than my mom.
That’s honestly saying something because she has a pretty substantial history of trauma and uses alcohol to cope. At one time, I definitely would have called her an alcoholic but I don’t know if she still is now. I assume so.
Honestly, I’m just feeling like a big burden has been lifted off my shoulders by writing that. I can finally tell the truth and admit how and why I’m messed up.
Though the responsibility is on me to fix it, they are really the reason for it. I’ve been hiding that for so long, essentially trying to protect them from the consequences of their actions. And I don’t really care anymore.
I still have compassion and empathy for them. I don’t believe they meant to mess me up. But the fact is that they did. And it’s very liberating to finally admit that publicly.