Grief As It Relates to Childhood Trauma: Missing Something You Never Had #AtoZChallenge

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter G post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I want to talk about grief as it affects survivors of childhood trauma and particularly family dysfunction. I discussed grief in last year’s A-to-Z too. The thing is though, for many survivors of family dysfunction, the grief is not related to loss, but to missing something you never had. After all, for most people growing up in dysfunctional families, the abuse and neglect started before they were old enough to form clear memories. Because of this as well as other factors, many children also grow up to believe their experience is normal. After all, if you’ve never known any different, it’s hard to understand that your experience could be traumatic. This is one reason way too many people still believe that adversity experienced in early childhood has few effects because “they won’t remember anyway”.

I personally greatly struggle with this belief. Like I shared, I quite literally experienced adversity from birth on if not before. As such, even though my parents claim I was a happy child until around age seven, I have very few memories of a happy childhood.

I also struggle with the belief that “it wasn’t that bad” because it was all I knew. This means that, for a long time, I didn’t actually grieve my childhood trauma. This might seem positive, but the grief is all the worse now that I do know that my experiences weren’t normal. Besides, denial is the first stage in grieving for a reason. In other words, not knowing means I’ll never move on either.

Many people who didn’t experience significant childhood trauma, react to those grieving the happy childhood they never had with well-meaning but hurtful comments like “leave the past behind” or “everybody struggles sometimes”. In reality though, I’m not everybody and the past is part of my life.

Family Dynamics: Roles in Dysfunctional Families #AtoZChallenge

Hi everyone. I’m once again incredibly late writing my contribution for the #AtoZChallenge today. Today’s letter is F and what better word to choose than “family”? After all, with most people who experience complex PTSD as a result of childhood trauma, the trauma originated in the family. This, obviously, does not have to be a birth family, unless you’re talking about the experiences of a traumatic start in life. The traumatic experiences I’m going to talk about here, can affect children brought into the family at any time during childhood.

Often, there are particular dynamics in families in which at least one of the parents is abusive, addicted or otherwise dysfunctional. This is a reason siblings in dysfunctional families often have very different perspectives on their upbringing. In my own case, my sister retreated to her room whenever my parents and I had an argument. As a result, she didn’t see the way my parents reacted and she did hear my screaming. She also resents me for having gotten more attention than she got, even though most of this attention especially when we got older, was negative.

Children and parents/caregivers in dysfunctional families can have many different roles. Some of them, I’ll discuss in more detail later in the challenge. They include:


  • Golden Child: the child who “can’t do wrong”. They are often the family “favorite”, often experiencing being spoiled or having few limits placed on them.

  • Hero: the child who “proves” that there’s nothing wrong with the family. This ties in with the “lost child” role that my sister had: the invisible one.

  • Identified patient / problem child: the child/person being identified as the source of the family’s dysfunction or the reason the family enters therapy. This role shows that, even in families in which one person is clearly the one being obviously abusive, the actual problem is the dynamics within the family.

  • Scapegoat/black sheep: the opposite of the “hero”, the scapegoat is the child blamed for everything going wrong in the family. Usually they get the harshest abuse.

  • Enabler: this is the person, either the not-so-obviously abusive parent or an older child, who maintains the family’s outward appearance and tries to take care of the family at least to an extent.

For clarity’s sake, none of these roles are “good”, in that they all show that a family is dysfunctional. I mean, I was often raised as a mixture between the golden child and identified patient. I regularly tried to deny my golden child attributes, because too often the golden child turns out to become abusive towards their own partner and eventually children. Then again, being the golden child is not that child’s fault. Continuing the cycle once they’re an adult, however, is.

Reflections on Being a Thrown Away Golden Child

I’ve been struggling with memories lately, as well as with the role I played in my family. I was for the most part the golden child. For those not aware of what this means, this is the child in a family in which one or both parents are narcissists or otherwise emotionally immature, who ends up being the parents’ favorite.

My parents often half-jokingly (though it wasn’t funny) said that my younger sister was oh so nicely average. More like invisible, I’d say.

I, on the other hand, was exceptional in both positive and negative ways. I was a genius when doing calendar calculation, which for your information is a common savant skill in people with developmental disabilities. By contrast, I was threatened with being thrown away into institutional care and called all kinds of insults for people with mental illness when I was acting less than excellent. I at one point thought of printing out the table of contents for the DSM so that my parents at least knew the correct terms for what they were calling me.

Then, when I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital in 2007, my parents more or less actually threw me away. No, that’s not even entirely true: they threatened to abandon me when I announced that I was taking a second gap year in order to work on independence skills in 2006 and only came back into my life after the independence training home promised to prepare me for university and independent living. Which they couldn’t.

I struggle with both the fact that I was thrown away and the fact that I was my parents’ favorite before that. After all, it adds an extra layer of shame to my life: the layer of “if only…”. If only I hadn’t taken that second gap year… If only I hadn’t consented to being admitted to the psychiatric hospital… If only I hadn’t applied for long-term care… would I still be the hero… in my parents’ fantasy tale? In other words, isn’t it my choice to have fallen off my parents’ pedestal?

I don’t know how I feel about the idea that it might’ve somehow been my choice to be thrown away. On the one hand, I feel it makes me responsible for not having a “normal” relationship with my parents. On the other hand though, I know how many golden children turn out and that’s not pretty. Many end up repeating their parents’ toxic patterns with partners or children.

I’m forever grateful for being childfree for this reason (and others), as just today I had a memory of shoving my and my wife’s then cat Barry out of the bed. I feel forever guilty about this and the very thought of doing this to a child, makes me sick.

Remembering this and other things makes me realize I’m glad I didn’t stay in the golden child role. If I had, I might as well have ended up in prison… or should have.

Dysfunctional Families: Characteristics Seen in Adult Children #AtoZChallenge

Hi everyone. Today’s topic choice was hard once again, so I eventually decided on one related to yesterday’s topic of codependency. Today, I am going to describe the characteristics of adult children of dysfunctional families.

First, what is a dysfunctional family? It could refer to a family in which one or both parents are alcoholics or addicts. This was how originally ACoA (Adult Children of Alcoholics) was started, but later “and dysfunctional families” was added. Dysfunctional families are, in this sense, also families in which one or both parents are abusive or neglectful.

What effects does growing up in a dysfunctional family have on adult children? Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families has a laundry list of characteristics of adults who grew up in dysfunctional households. This list includes being an approval-seeker, being frightened by angry people and frightened of personal criticism, having low self-esteem and stuffing or denying your feelings.

Most of these characteristics are what Lindsay C. Gibson, author of Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, calls “internalizing” traits. However, depending on your role in a dysfunctional family, you could also end up externalizing your trauma. By this I mean that you end up being toxic or abusive yourself. This particularly happens to adult children who were the “golden child” or “hero” in an abusive family. A “golden child” is a child who is praised excessively and used to uphold the family’s “perfect” image. These children are often the parents’ “favorite” and may get spoiled. As Pete Walker, author of Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, says, however, being spoiled excessively is traumatic in its own right.

I myself exhibit both internalizing and externalizing traits of being an adult child. I could, for instance, relate to at least half the items on the “laundry list”, but also can be emotionally volatile and demanding. I was, also, usually treated as the family’s “golden child”. This sometimes makes me feel sad, but I try to focus on self-awareness and healing instead.

Codependency and Emotional Dependence #AtoZChallenge

Hi everyone. For my letter C post in the #AtoZChallenge, I wasn’t really sure what topic to pick. I could go with cognitive functions, but without explaining personality typologies first, this wouldn’t make sense. Since I chose the broad topic of personal growth for my theme, I could however choose a topic that isn’t necessarily related to personality. IN this post, I’m talking about codependency.

What is codependency? In a narrow sense, it refers to certain behaviors exhibited by individuals in a close relationship with an addict. The addict is, in this sense, dependent on a substance (or behavior) and their partner is codependent, as in “second-degree dependent”.

I used to understand codependency as involving just enabling behaviors. For example, a codependent person might be manipulated into giving the addict access to their drug of choice. In this case, a person buying alcohol and giving it to an alcoholic, is codependent.

Actually though, codependency isn’t just the direct enabling of an addiction. It also happens in abusive relationships in which neither of the parties involved is an addict. For example, a person staying with their partner in spite of domestic violence, could also be seen as codependent.

Codependency, as such, is more related to being emotionally dependent on someone else despite them being in some way toxic. It could also be seen as compulsive caregiving.

For clarity’s sake, though their are certain individual traits that make someone more susceptible to becoming codependent, codependency is at least as much an attribute of the relationship as it is of the individual.

How can you heal from codependency? The first step is to set healthy boundaries. This means that boundaries are not so weak that they allow others to use you as a doormat and not so rigid that you end up self-isolating. Of course, what boundaries you set, depends on the person you’re setting boundaries with. For example, you may want to go no-contact with an abuser, but keep a supportive friend close by.

Another step in the healing process is to recognize yourself as a unique individual separate from the addict or abusive person you’re codependent on. And, for that matter, separate from everyone else in the world. This means learning about and validating your own preferences, wants and needs. As you learn to be more aware of your own individuality, you’ll start to develop greater emotional independence.

Healing from codependency will ultimately help you have healthy relationships with the people around you.

I am not currently in an abusive relationship and don’t have any close relatives who are addicts. As such, I am not really codependent on anyone at the moment. However, being that I grew up in a dysfunctional family, I do share some traits of emotional dependency. I was at one point also diagnosed with dependent personality disorder (DPD), even though my psychologist at the time only chose that diagnosis to make it look like I was misusing care. She actually claimed that I was perfectly capable of asserting myself, which people with DPD definitely aren’t.

Like I said, codependency is at least in part defined by the relationship, whereas DPD is a diagnosis meant for an individual. It doesn’t, however, take into account the fact that many adult children of dysfunctional families will end up showing (co)dependent behaviors in other relationships too.