Attachment Issues & Dysfunctional Families

One of the things that gave me a stronger sense of attachment as a child was the unconditional love and support of my grandmother.  Until I was 10, we lived within a few miles of my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  They balanced out my parents. 

My parents were Deaf.  That, without the alcoholism, can bring about co-dependent issues.  Regarding enmeshment: my parents “needed” me to be their interpreter even into adulthood.  I felt very guilty about moving out of state to free myself.  My therapist asked me: “What did they do before you were born?”  Oh. 

When I was 10, we moved away from my loving support network.  In Baltimore, I felt alone and totally responsible for my parents’ well-being.  Meanwhile, my parents discovered their own lively support system in the large Deaf community.  There was a social club in Baltimore and my parents became frequent visitors.  That’s when alcohol entered the picture.

Over and over, I ignored my own feelings to be there for my parents, “the good girl.”  I was very reclusive either because I’m an introvert or because I just felt the need to hide.  There was no one to confide in: my brother was younger, a boy, and hung out with his group of new friends.  I missed my Grandma.  I missed my cousins.  I didn’t feel valued anymore except as the “good girl interpreter”.

I had a push or pull relationship with men.  I went to an all girls’ high school and didn’t encounter many teenage boys.  Those I did, I felt immediately attracted to but when they showed me attention, I withdrew and went cold.  Once I moved away from my parents, I seemed to be attracted to older men who were unavailable for one reason or another.  Why was I making myself unavailable when closeness was what I wanted?  Guys especially went in the reject pile if they drank, even if it was just socially.

I’d moved into my grandmother’s house after she died.  I shared the house for a year with my cousin Anne, with whom I’d grown up.  My aunts and uncles began to shower me with loving attention.  I grew especially close to my godparents.  I felt myself beginning to soften; to make friends; to socialize more.

I met my husband-to-be, Rich.  We began as co-worker friends, sharing breaks together.  We had much in common.  He was so shy that when he built up the courage to ask me on a date, he waited in the parking lot until I was done with my shift.  I was surprised.  My next reaction was to make excuses that I was “busy”.  Why?  I liked the guy!  He gave me his phone number and after a few days I told myself to call him.

It wasn’t all happy-ever-after.  I had a lot of ACA and Coda issues.  Coda, not only co-dependent but also child of deaf adults.  Rich and I married, and the issues came barging out of the closet I tried to keep them in.  He wanted to have a beer now and then.  I would become angry and cold when he did. 

He couldn’t understand why I would get so angry until we moved back to the Baltimore area and went to my parents’ to celebrate their 35^th wedding anniversary.  They’d both been drinking quite a lot.  Dad was angry: he felt he’d been betrayed by some of his fellow members at the club.  Mom was worried.  Violence was a possibility and I tried to soothe my father.  Who should pull up in her car but one of the club members Dad was angry about.

He jumped out and was out the door to confront the woman, his signs huge and filled with rage.  Rich ran after him.  The woman looked terrified and began to get into her car but Dad was already upon her.  Rich got between them.  He managed to back my father away.  Meanwhile, Mom was telling me she was frightened that Dad was so frustrated now he would hit her.

I was sick to my stomach.  I wanted out of there.  But how could I go?  Dad stormed back into the house and went for another beer.  Rich followed and his face was white as a sheet.  He was saying to me, “Let’s get out of here.” 

I said, “We can’t.  I have to protect my mother.”

His mouth dropped open.  “Do you see how abnormal this is?”

And suddenly I did.  I was seeing it through his eyes and it hit me how insane it all was.  How was I to protect my mother?  For how long?  If Dad hit her, she would hit him back.  I’d seen it all before.  I signed to my parents, “We’re leaving now.”

That’s when I learned about Al-Anon and then ACOA.  I went to meetings and just vented and vented pure rage.  One member of the group suggested some books about having alcoholic parents.  From there, I found a therapist who was also an ACA.  What a blessing it was to have the meetings and the therapy. 

I knew now why a beer or two enraged me.  I was afraid Rich or the other guys I’d dated would all become alcoholics and I’d be “stuck” again.

Time has mellowed and seasoned me.  I have a strong marriage again (Rich died in 2001) with Ted and three awesome adult children.  I am truly blessed and truly grateful.