I WAS BORN INTO A DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY

I was born into a dysfunctional family. Actually, dysfunctional sounds mild as I hear a lot of people saying their families are such.

Do I start a new category for posts like this? Doesn’t seem quite right to put them under Memories, although they are definitely memories!

The old song “The Way We Were” always enters my mind when I think about memories:

Memories light the corners of my mind
Misty water-colored memories of the way we were
Scattered pictures of the smiles we left behind
Smiles we gave to one another for the way we were

But then memories are not all good. Some memories can haunt and scar us for a lifetime. The lyrics continue with:

Memories may be beautiful and yet
What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget
So it’s the laughter we will remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were

Simply choosing to forget is not realistic for those of us who have bad memories and terrible childhoods. There are controversial claims that say traumatic events can be stored in the unconscious mind and blocked from normal conscious recall. If true, maybe these repressed memories are a good thing, maybe it’s better to not be able to recall.

Although my memories are bad and I have not forgotten them, I wonder if I have some repressed memories because at times I experience flashbacks of my childhood that I don’t recall. They just pop into my head at any given time, nothing triggering them that I am aware of.

My egg and sperm donor were both worthless human beings! I refer to them using those words as they don’t deserve, in my opinion, to be called parents, mother, father, mom, dad, etc. No, I’m not adopted! I was born into and grew up in a house with them. Maybe I should refer to them as paternal and maternal figures, would my readers prefer those words better?

Honoring your parents is one of the Ten Commandments. Am I doomed for not honoring them?

I have tried for the better part of my adult life to forget them and how they treated me. I have tried hard, really hard! It has not been easy by no means and I have not yet succeeded. I am trying to get there.

How am I doing that, how am I getting there? I’ve been writing about it…privately…until now.

The emotional and physical abuse was bad! However, my psychologist urged me to write about it, telling me that writing can and will be therapeutic. Putting it out there, I’m advised, will release the emotions I’m feeling. Purging will benefit my body, mind, and soul!

Is such possible? Will it be a turnoff to my readers? I don’t know.

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