Delayed Contact – today’s prompt.
How would you get along with your sibling(s), parent(s), or any other person you’ve known for a long time — if you only met them for the first time today?
hahahahahahahahaha…oh, you were serious.
My PTSD button just got pushed again. Family baggage. It’s called therapy – get some. And let me participate. (I was raised by wolves. Therapy, lots of it helped.)
My father: I would love to meet up again and make amends to him for being so unwilling to love him unconditionally through his alcoholic final days. His part: unwillingness or inability to disclose his truly bizarre early childhood upbringing and it wasn’t until later that I learned of it. He was raised by wolves as well. I believe it would have helped me to understand him better and how he raised us. Or why it was so difficult.
My mother: Nope. Not. A. Chance. I have not one ounce of compassion, willingness or energy. Just not interested.
Oldest sister: Half. We shared a common womb. The years have soften my feelings for the sister that was favored. We both have baggage as a result of that house. We share a love of books and needle crafts, but is that enough? I don’t know. I wasn’t a kind and loving younger sister due to my own insecurities, jealous of her being ‘favored’ and clueless as to how to bridge the gap created by the above-mentioned mutual womb.
Younger sister: Too little too late. She has enough demons of her own. We have nothing in common outside DNA. My amends to her are to be kind. Even if not related I would not pick her for creating a friendship.
My demons have receded for the most part. I have had years of therapy to combat the ugliness of my childhood; both in the home and outside of it. I tend to my spiritual growth and personal understanding on a daily basis. Sometimes hourly.
I choose to believe that I picked the family I was raised in. Damn, I wish I had picked differently.