Falling From The Tree – Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

I continued the dinner preparation, letting my thoughts of the past go by the wayside until I’d put all the ingredients in the crockpot. Sitting down shortly after that, they resumed.

The tragedy of growing up in a dysfunctional household is that the vulnerable and innocent ones must eventually deal with their past and unburden themselves of learned behaviors. Usually, it takes years of trying and failing to overcome them, dealing with false starts, and making pitiful attempts at healthy relationships. It isn’t always pretty. This legacy has played out repeatedly not only in my personal life, but I’ve been a witness to it with those enduring a similar upbringing. So much hurt, so much pain to get past. One can consider themselves lucky to survive it and create a somewhat sane life after dealing with it. I was fortunate in that I had the strength to deal with issues head-on.

I always wondered how my life would have turned out had I been nurtured and cared for when I was a child. What would it have felt like feeling loved growing up? I would imagine I’d made much better choices in men and probably would have attracted less damaged people. Having mature, healthy relationships requires knowing how to behave in them. It seems to me, having had more stability and genuine care, those connections would be with people who weren’t dealing with emotional scarring or baggage. At the very least, not quite as much as coming from a dysfunctional household. They would have been safe havens, not the merry-go-round of perpetuating my past. So happy to be past most of that.

The death of my mom in 2012, and my dad’s death in 2014, really set me free to be fully in charge of my destiny. Of course, it always was, but the trials of life endured in the beginning put roadblocks up along the way for far too many years. I’d successfully untethered myself from my mom and our dysfunction, or so I thought, back in 2002, and my journey had become a bit easier from that point on. It still amazed me, though, how residual angst still cropped up occasionally. Life is nothing if not always needing to address problems, I guess.

When my dad died, my sister and I were at once free to be the top of the hierarchy and then immediately became estranged. I guess for her, it was time to be honest with herself – there was no love lost between us, nor did she ever really care. Maybe it was just too much effort now to continue to pretend we were family? She let me go, and honestly, I was okay with that. I deserved acceptance and respect, not just be at her beck and call when it was convenient to her and her needs. It was a one-sided relationship, and it was over for me as well. Blood or not, if you can’t thoroughly enjoy and love the people you are connected to, why are you even with them? The same goes for actually wanting to have children. My parents never had any business creating children together. Neither was capable of providing that bare minimum standard a child deserves – love and acceptance.

2014, and other events between my mother and father’s death, solidified my resolve to be happier and healthier, more than ever before.

TO BE CONTINUED ON THURSDAY…

22 thoughts on “Falling From The Tree – Part 3

  1. I know not what to say as I am still stuck in your words, in reality, of the past. Hope for the best is always alive. And somehow I think there is gain rather than loss. Hopefully one, if turned sane, knows the ropes of his or her life is in their hands. 🙂
    Motivating and really tempting me to take the step I have longed for. Thank you for sharing.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I believe there have definitely been some positives from my past, one thing I hope is that my children got the benefit of a better mother. Please do share what steps you are taking for the betterment of your future, Kritika. If it’s too personal, I understand but if you want to talk about it, feel free to reach out on my email. sushibocks@gmail.com Thanks for commenting! 🙂

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  2. Hi Susi, I am not sure if there is an answer to the question had your parents been loving and caring would life have been different for you.
    However, I had a loving and caring upbringing and I ended up married to a man who turned into a violent alcoholic. I became a survivor of domestic violence and took my two boys and left him. I was a single parent bringing them up for many years. My youngest son, Evan tragically died at the age of 22 and it was only a few months later, I learned that my only sister had gone to live with my ex-husband. This was a terrible shock for me and we became estranged. However, within 6 months, we were back in touch because of my mother’s vigorous attempts at reconciliation. My dad died back in 1980 and mum passed away in 2015. Without parents to influence us we rubbed along together my sister and I. By then the inevitable had happened and she was on her own again. Our relationship became more toxic and we finally went our different ways 2 or 3 years ago.
    It was such a relief to not have her in my life anymore. We had nothing in common with each other and I would never have chosen her for a friend. She seemed to delight in being mean and nasty to me. Now it is like a great weight has fallen from my shoulders.
    In the UK we have a saying:
    “you don’t choose your family, thank goodness you can choose your friends.” Now I have a family of friends and enjoy a calmer more peaceful life. Sorry for the length of this but I wanted you to know you are not alone and it happens far more often than you think it does. Best Regards, Carolyn

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for sharing your story, Carolyn. I guess it really just comes down to the individuals regardless of their circumstances. I find that I’ve always had a strong sense of justice, so maybe I would have always ended up where I am? But yes, you are correct. The “family” I surround myself with now aren’t always blood relatives. In some ways, they are actually better than relatives because they want to be here with me.

      Liked by 1 person

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